


The Ballad of the Lonesome Cowboy

by coolbluerays, TheMusicalCC



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Mystery, small town setting, unity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbluerays/pseuds/coolbluerays, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMusicalCC/pseuds/TheMusicalCC
Summary: Woody Pride has been jumping from one odd job to the other across the country for years and he's seen a lot during that time. But when a long road leads him to No Name Town, one moonlit night, he couldn’t have imagined what he’d see there.Or that it’d become home.





	1. Prologue. The Wild Girl

**Prologue. The Wild Girl**

* * *

The horse wasn’t hers, but he might as well have been. She’d found him grassin’ round the town, as thin and roughed up as a plum branch after harvest season, and immediately tried to rope’im to take’im to the stables. He had resisted, the poor thing, not knowin’ he could trust her initially, but after some tuggin’, they soon understood each other. At least enough that he gladly allowed her to conduct him to Burt for some hay and water, and even a good brushin’. He was to wait for his rider, and she offered that if he was to wait, either way, he might as well do it somewhere nice and cozy. He agreed and Jessie took care of everything- not that anyone was going to be asking a lot about the new horse in her ranch. All things considered, it wasn’t the oddest thing to have shown up at her door.

Soon he was well enough to earn his keep by workin’ around town and the surroundin’ settlements; pulling carts or plows the way any other good horse would. In time, he let her ride on his back, fast as the wind, swifter than any horse Jessie had ever seen.

But he still wasn’t hers.

_But Jessie_ , Prospector Pete (Who hadn’t dug anything bigger than carrot in close to ten years now but the name stuck) would often tell her, _if you found’im and fed’im and took care of ‘im and no one ever came to claim his sorry quarters, that means he belongs to you now, right? Of course, right!_ You even gave him a name already, he’d say _._ She’d countered once or twice to this by tryin’ to explain that Bullseye had _given_ _himself_ that name, not her, but soon realized it was as useful as a second navel and let him say his fill. Pete, like many others in town, thought that her good hand for animals was simply a matter of luck- in a way, it was, she wasn’t sure if it had been genetics. Sure, grandma Cowden could apparently herd the cows with her voice alone there in the green and lonely hills of her homeland, and sure, Pa somehow always managed to make coyotes leave his lands; rattlesnakes fleeing at his step without him ever shedding blood, but neither of them could understand the language of animals the way Jessie could. A unique gift, they’d call it, not one heard of in their family as long as anyone could remember, but a gift nonetheless. She would’ave suspected her mother’s side, but where they were just as musically inclined as her Pa’s. At least as far as herding was concerned, they had a harsher relationship with animals that weren’t cattle. Ma often told stories of how in her homeland, wrestling with wild animals and winning was a coming of age rite (Jessie had gotten her chance with a wolverine at six and it had been a tie, so she was apparently stuck in a limbo between a kid and an adult for it.) This was an obvious sign that they didn’t really have any talent for communicatin’ with animals at the level Jessie had. Yodelin’ across the mountains to call for the sheep wasn’t exactly talkin’ to them- as useful as the trick was to call for the herd without hightailing it up a mountain.

People like Pete never really believed that talkin’ was what she did. _She can read the metalanguage_ , they’d say, _she’s just a natural for it_. Worst case scenario, they’d say she just was bossy enough that they took her for an alpha and obeyed blindly- which was all flavors of stupid but she’d learned to let it pass. _Some people_ , Pa used to say, _just aren’t meant to realize that the world is wilder and weirder than it looks like._ And boy, was he right about that. The town she’d moved into after finishin’ high school to help her granny with work was a prime example of how wild and weird the world could be and, consequently, how much people were willin’ to ignore and pretend something wasn’t there; people pretended not to see the hint of a silver star on Burt’s forehead, under the silvery blonde hair he carefully and unsuccessfully combed over, people pretended not to realize that Mr. and Mrs. Potenkim’s triplets blinked sideways like chickens and pretended Jessie couldn’t talk to animals.

She could, though. And she and Bullseye spent many afternoons in conversation. He’d tell her about the fields he’d traverse, the obstacles he’d faced. _All that for a human you haven’t even met?_ she’d ask and he’d rather sheepily -if it’s no disrespect for a horse to compare him to a sheep, that is- explain that it was the way things were sometimes.

No, Bullseye wasn’t hers. He wasn’t meant to be, either. His rider, his soul twin was out there and Bullseye was willin’ to wait for’im till kingdom come.


	2. Wanderer.

**Chapter 1. Wanderer.**

* * *

 

“Y’ know, giving you directions would be easier if you knew where you’re going yerself” the trucker said, spitting a bit between words on account of chewing some rubber-like baseball gum between his teeth. Woody bit back a sarcastic response, counted to ten in his mind and tried again.

“That’s the name they gave me, No Name Town”

“What kinda name is that?”

“I- look, I’m just as surprised as you are, but that’s what it says here, see?” Woody showed the man the ‘Help wanted’ ad. “It’s supposed to be somewhere around here but everyone I ask tells me something different.”

“Well, there are a lot of settlements ‘round these parts, right guys?” the trucker asked his companions, still balled up around one of the truck stop’s picnic tables, who nodded and grunted in affirmation. “Most of’em don’t have names either, so it’s easy to get mixed up with No Name town, cowboy”

A rumble of discreet laughter followed the word, but Woody paid no mind. With the brown hat on top of his head and the bandana around his neck, he knew fully well that’s what he looked like. What could he say? In his most recent line of work, it was a getup that worked to his advantage. And he looked good in it too.

“So none of you’ve heard of it?” Woody asked, and they grunted in negation. He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose “OK, any of these settlements near a site museum? Or a military base?”

“Nope. Not on my route, at least, unless...” the trucker considered it for a moment and turned to one of his buddies eating a greasy-looking burger “Hey, Les, what’s the name of that town east from here? Near the train tracks and Hooved Foot Forest, you were on that route last year, right?”

Les glanced at Woody with some concern.

“It ain’t No Name Town” he said “It’s an… an Indian name, I think”

“Les, ya ignoramus” another one of the bunch said, slapping his elbow playfully “It’s not _Indian_ , it’s native”

“Well, native, whatever, but it ain’t No Name”

“What was it called?” the first trucker pressed on.

“I can’t remember.”

“But you can remember it was Indian?”

“ _Native_ ”

“I- I think it was _Nunaamé_ or something like that” Les finally conceded, somewhat shyly “...it might have been No Name. I’m not sure. If it’s that hard to find, it may be better to just give up and try in another town, though.”

The first trucker spend another couple of seconds throwing a bewildered look at Les and then turned back to Woody, who had to counted up to thirty this time.

“That’s the one, yeah.” he looked a bit apologetic, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No worries.” Woody tipped his hat at the other trucker “Thank you Lester.”

“It’s Lestat.”

“Wanna ride with me, cowboy?” the first trucker offered “I’m done eatin’ anyway.”

Woody managed a smile.

“Sure thing, thanks.”

The truck was cleaner than Woody had expected. Sure, food wrappings here and there and some bottles he was pretty sure weren’t apple juice, but it smelled like it had been cleaned recently and it mixed nicely with the smell of the freeway once the trucker started driving. His backpack on his lap, he enjoyed the cool air and the speed as long as he could, until they reached the fork the trucker had spoken of, where he halted to let him climb down.

“From here ya just go left through the mountains and you’ll eventually run into a plain in the middle of ‘em… now that I think about it, yeah, there were wild stories about someone findin’ mammoth bones in these mountains, so there probably is a museum site like ya said.” he scratched his cheek “Eerie place. I remembered it ‘cause Les never wanted to drive through it at night.” he glanced at the sky and Woody followed suit, seeing the sun already declining “It’s a good ten miles or so, I don’t think you’ll make it there today.”

Great.

“Aren’t there any places I can rest up in-between?”

“Well, there is a settlement somewhere along the road. More like a trailer-house park, if you get my meaning, not a place you can exactly relax. Looks like somethin’ out of a Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie.”

Just great.

“Gotcha. I’ll just soldier on and sleep when I get to town.” the truck driver made a face “What?”

“...it’s probably nuthin’, Les’ can be kinda...uhhh...”

“Dense?”

“A bit, but no, I mean he’s superstitious.” he glanced at the road Woody was to take almost warily “It seems like he saw some weird stuff on that road many times. Ended up begging to get transferred to another route. He wasn’t tryin’ to be difficult a while ago, y’know. I think he just wanted you to head elsewhere. Anywhere but here.”

Woody tried to hide his uneasiness in his next words.

“What’d he see?”

The truck driver weighed on telling him or not for a few moments and then sighed.

“Not sure m’self. Weird glows here and there. Something at the military base that I’m pretty sure was just a helicopter, something big and furry passing the town, close to the farm- what really got him, though, was a dog.”

“A dog.” Woody repeated, trying hard not to let his impatience show.

“A big dog that occupied the whole road- it’d have to be bigger than a horse for that, y’know- the guys think he probably just saw the dog’s shadow and got spooked, but I dunno, cowboy, it’s not the first weird story I’ve heard about these parts.” Woody decided against ask for more, already a bit spooked. “Maybe spending the night walking ‘round them isn’t a good idea.”

Great, peachy, _perfect_. While Woody was still mulling it over, though, the trucker kept another pensive silence and then reached to close the passenger door. “You take care out there, cowboy.”

Woody hurriedly stepped away, not looking forward to being covered in dirt from the truck’s wheels and watched it drive away toward the right side of the fork, away from whatever Les had seen in the woods. He debated with himself whether to just head elsewhere briefly, but the reasons an isolated town had sounded like a good idea at first were strong as ever, so he crossed the highway as carefully as he could and walked along the side of the road. Overhead, the sky was already tinged red.

* * *

_Well_ , Woody thought as he emptied his last water bottle, crushing it to keep it in his backpack with the rest, _this wasn’t one of my brightest ideas_. Night had fallen already and the only sounds around him were those of the crickets and critters of the forest. Not one car had passed in during all the while he’d been walking and he was really starting to feel like maybe finding a clearing to camp on wasn’t a bad idea after all, campfire stories be damned. The only reason he hadn’t yet was the certainty that he’d all but forgotten how to set a tent and by now he was just as good at it as he was at not opening his big mouth and getting people mad at him- which was the whole reason he had to find another job and housing to begin with. He had what his mother had often called ‘Foot-in-mouth-syndrome’, and a bad case at that. He could only hope that people in No Name were a bit less touchy than the other towns he’d been in.

If he ever made it to No Name, of course.

He let his knees bend, dropping his rear end on a fallen log, panting. Honestly, he should have gotten a car years ago if only to keep himself from having to carry his scarce belongings around with him everywhere. But, honestly, they seemed more trouble than they were worth. It’s not like he _planned_ to not being able to stick in one place for more than a couple of months, a year if lady luck smiled his way. And where his job was concerned, he rarely needed it. Even on the times where he’d been in areas that were closer to suburban, there usually were buses he could ride. Stubbornness was also on the list his mother often claimed him to be afflicted with and he just didn’t like cars much. They seemed like bruteish, terrible man-made beasts that were easily turned into a mortal trap by just a moment of distraction. They sure were nice to ride on… every once in a while. When he’d been a cop, said rides had been happening pretty much all day every day, which had wasted the novelty rather quickly- but driving? Eugh, no.

Just as Woody was wondering if it would be prudent to simply fall asleep were he sat, a noise interrupted his thoughts, the unmistakable sound of someone running over fallen leaves, and he straightened up.

“Hello?” he called, trying to look in every direction at the same time- the sound stopped. They’d heard him. He got to his feet and the thought that someone or something walking in the woods at night may not be a happy encounter crossed his mind.

No sooner than he’d thought about it, he saw something shining among the middle branches of a nearby tree. Fireflies? Wasn’t it too early in the year for them? A sudden light caught them, making the objects shine like silver dollars.

They blinked.

Woody stumbled back and away, gasping for breath, onto the pavement road. In his hurry, his legs tangled and he fell back, onto his butt; a horn blared and tires squealed and he felt his heart leap at his throat, turning to find the lights of a car at mere yards form him, stopping too close for comfort. The driver’s door opened.

“ _Oooohmygod_ , are you OK?” the voice was young and absolutely shrill with fear. Two lanky arms helped him to his feet and he found himself looking at the youngest trucker he’d ever seen, complete with the arm tan-lines and a neon green driver’s hat, but with a face that looked like it might be too young to even shave “I almost ran you over, you gotta be careful!”

“Th-the eyes” Woody pointed to the thicket but whatever had been there- if it _had_ been there, was gone already. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The trucker looked to where he pointed and then back at him “It was there-! Something was staring at me!”

“Alright, calm down” he looked at the trees, and Woody could have sworn it was uneasiness that his face reflected “It’s gone now, either way, you’re good- probably a cougar or a bear.” Woody was very sure bears weren’t as tall as what he’d seen, but the trucker continued before he could object “Ya gave me a fright, not many travelers come this way- I thought I was seeing a ghost! Where are ya headin’ to?”

“N-no Name Town.”

“Well, ain’t ya lucky- I was headin’ there myself for a good night’s sleep” the trucker patted him on the back with one arm, offering him his free hand. When Woody, still too busy keeping an eye on the trees, failed to shake it, he took it himself, shaking almost frantically, claiming his attention “The name’s RC- well, Rhett Campbell- mom was a big fan of ‘Gone with the Wind’. I like RC better.”

“Woody.” he blurted, as his hand was finally released.

“Get in the truck, Woody, if we hurry we’ll be in time for a hot meal at Slink’s.”

Later on, Woody wouldn’t even remember his first glimpse of No Name. He’d been far too tired, hungry and eager to find shelter for the night to really take any of it in. His first memory of the place consisted on the dish with eggs and bacon he was washing down with a good serving of lemonade, and the freckly face of his savior who told him he could crash at his place for tonight- _mom won’t mind if I tell her I almost ran you over_.

* * *

“Ya sure ya don’t wanna stay here some more? It’s fine! Even if I’m gone, Ma don’t mind, she says it’ll save us a lawsuit.”

Woody, well rested and properly fed for the first time in a while, was in good enough a mood to laugh the matter off. Last night and whatever it was that he’d seen on the road seemed far, far away in the crisp morning air.

“Sure I’m sure! And don’t worry, RC, I won’t sue you. It was an accident.”

The trucker smiled. In the daylight he looked even younger than before, Woody was suddenly sure that he couldn’t be past 21. Among the blurry memories of some of the past night’s conversation, he recalled RC mentioning he’d taken up the route after the last trucker flat out refused to drive it again- Les.

Woody extended his hand for a quick shake and tipped his hat at RC.

“See you ‘round, and thanks again.”

“No problem! Just, uh, don’t go across roads at night again, ‘k?”

“Will do.”

The address given in the ad was on the outskirts of No Name, as Woody quickly gathered thanks to a quick model RC had drawn him on a napkin, so he enjoyed the walk, not taking too much of a hurry to get there. The place looked like a relatively new town, the kind that starts like a bus stop and eventually starts growing, but it wasn’t a two-horse town by any means. He caught glimpse of a boutique and a library and the rows and rows of houses to the other side. Still, all and all, it was a small town. Case on point, he was already all the way across it and he’d made it on his own two legs without that much of an effort. Compared to the road last night, that felt it would stretch on forever, this was nothing. One wooden sign pointed him the way to the Cowden ranch, so he adjusted the backpack behind him, ready to continue walking, when a horn behind him made him almost jump out of his skin.

“Going somewhere?” came a voice almost immediately after, either ignorant to the fact that they’d almost given him a heart attack or not caring “There isn’t much from here on out.”

The stranger had dusty brown hair in a buzz cut, a strong jaw and judgmental eyes and by the size of his shoulders alone, Woody knew he’d have to swallow his urge to cuss him out.

“I know.” he didn’t quite manage to keep the irritation from his voice, but the man didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you a tourist? We don’t see many of those around here these days.”

“I’m not a tourist.” Woody said, turning to walk away. To his displeasure, the car followed.

“Passing through? ‘cause if you are, most buses stop here for the night then go back to the main road, not through. This road leads to the start of the desert and there it stops.”

Determined to be left alone, Woody kept walking, but the car stayed on him. The stranger seemed determined to irritate him.

“Is it something you can’t talk about?”

Woody stopped on his tracks and looked back at him, barely refraining from asking what the hell he was talking about in his most impudent tone, but the man barely waited for an answer, opening the passenger door.

“OK, I won’t ask about it. But let me drop you off.”

Woody mentally weighed his options, saving himself a couple of hours worth of trailing vs. having to put up with the guy for even just another minute. Finally, the thought of seeing anything even remotely similar to what he’d seen the previous night won over. He climbed into the car, placed his backpack between his knees and closed the door.

“I’m Buzz, by the way.” the man said, before mentally catching himself and offering him a hand “Luke. Everyone calls me Buzz, though.”

Wow, was No Name the world capital of random nicknames?

“Woody.”

Shaking hands with Buzz was like shaking hands with a gorilla- or very similar, at least. By the time Woody retrieved his hand, he felt like his fingers had gone through a wringer.

“Well, hang on, Woody, it’s a bumpy ride.”

Bumpy indeed. The road was little more than a line of downtrodden dirt and stones kept appearing beneath the wheels. Buzz didn’t seem to mind it much, but Woody was very grateful when they reached their destination after maybe 20 minutes of bouncing around.

“T-there.” he pointed at the wooden arc that signaled the entrance to the Ranch “That’s the place.”

The car stopped so abruptly that Woody almost hits his head against the dashboard, lurching forward, he was glad he put on a seatbelt.

“Cowden ranch?” Buzz was asking, seeming almost alarmed, “This is where you were coming?”

“Yeah, yeah” Woody said, straightening his hat “Where else?”

“I thought-.”

“Hey- Buzz!” called someone, coming down the cobble road of the farm. Woody wouldn’t have thought of seeing someone like this man in a farm, his clothes seemed too neat and delicate for a work environment like this, his silvery blonde hair too carefully curled. He had big, calf-like blue eyes and an incredibly pale skin, and the smile on his face seemed amused rather than friendly, “You finally gonna fix the truck?”

“Ah, no Burt, I brought, uh, someone.”

Burt studied Woody as he stepped out of the vehicle, looking him up and down.

“Here to see Jessie, huh?”

“Yeah, I- is she home?”

“Sure thing, go ahead and step inside. I’m Burt, by the way. I’m in charge of the stables.”

“Woody.” they shook hands and Woody was starting to wonder if everyone in No Name was going to try to break his hand. Burt, for his delicate appearance, seemed to be almost as strong as Buzz, who, by the way, looked a bit anxious about leaving Woody there.

“Maybe I should walk you to Jessie.” he said after a moment, stepping out of the car “Just in case-”

“In case of what? He’s not going to get lost, Buzz.” Burt scoffed.

“I just, uh, I also need to talk to her about the truck. Schedules and all. I should have time next week. Maybe.”

“Sure.” Burt rolled his eyes “Go ahead, then, it’s not like you could phone her or something...”

Woody would have protested, but he had a feeling there was something here he didn’t know, so he kept quiet and took in the fields to his left as they walked. It was a medium-sized space, big enough to suffice for a decent-sized cattle -said cattle was either grassing or just elsewhere for the moment, so what he could see was a large expanse of land that ended abruptly, grass turning into something completely different.

“Is that a desert?” he tugged from Buzz’s sleeve, pointing at the golden glow.

“Yes”

“But- how?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Buzz considered for a moment “I think- I guess poor herding could have caused it, it’s happened in other places in South-America.”

Woody wanted to argue that the climate in South-America and the climate in… was it Maryland or Virginia? He wasn’t sure- anyway, the climates weren’t nearly similar enough for it to be a competent comparison, but they arrived to the main house just then. A white wooden building, tempered with age and bigger than most farms Woody had been to- it was evident at some point it had housed a big family. On the steps of the porch, a young woman with a freckly, amicable face sat with her legs crossed, reading the newspaper. Her braided hair was of a fiery red color under the generous sun.

“That’s Jessie.” Buzz said, his voice suddenly a somewhat pathetic peep and he stayed a bit behind as Woody squared his shoulders and headed for her. But, just as he was drawing close, the sound of hooves made him turn to his right, meeting the eyes of a brown, strong-looking horse, and-

It was… it was weird. He wasn’t really sure why but had the same feeling one might have upon returning to the home one lived in during infancy many years later. He had little time to ponder about it because the horse immediately trotted his way and all but jammed his head to his chest, almost knocking him back.

“Bullseye!” the young woman called immediately going to grab the horse, but it was too busy putting his nose and lips to Woody’s face to pay attention. For a surreal moment Woody thought it was trying to eat him- but then a hot, slobbery tongue swept across his face and he was too busy feeling disgusted to be scared. He hurriedly wiped his face on his sleeve, stepping away, an attempt that would have been unsuccessful hadn’t the woman managed to grab the horse’s rein to keep him in place, despite it’s excited huffing “Woah, woah, what are you doin’? I’m so sorry, he’s not normally like this- what do you mean it’s him?”

Woody could tell his face wouldn’t really be clean again until he could wash it but he tried to not let it bother him as he pushed the hat out of his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s OK- oof, I guess I probably smell like oats.”

“You sure?”

“Sure, sure, it’s- _OOF_!” the air was knocked out of him when she put her arms around him and actually lifted him off the ground, spinning him.

“It’s you! It’s you, it’s really you!” she put him down and studied him from head to toe again “Ya look like a beanpole but that’s fine I guess.”

“Uh” he really couldn’t think of more to say and didn’t really have the breath for it either, so he stuck with that “Uh… thank you?”

“It was about time, though, what took ya so long?”

“Um, conflicting directions, mostly, no one was sure where this town was.”

“Figures. We ain’t that popular as it is but someone really went the distance to make us near invisible.”

“Uh-huh” he looked around, half-expecting to see the hidden camera somewhere, “D-did you know I was coming?”

She seemed a bit taken aback at the question.

“I- well, yeah, _eventually.”_

“ _Ahem._ ”

They turned to Buzz, who suddenly was looking less than friendly, eyes narrowed at Woody. Jessie didn’t seem to notice as she smiled warmly at him.

“Howdy, Buzz! What can I do for ya? Ya here to fix the truck?”

That seemed to shake him out of it, he immediately looked abashed.

“Uh, I- no, no actually, I’m here to-.” he glanced at Woody, as though to ask for help and Woody conceded only because he looked positively lost.

“He gave me a ride here.” Woody explained “And uh, something about having time for the truck next week, I think?”

“Oh” she seemed a bit disappointed “Well, uh, you got time for a coffee? I gotta go check on the cows in a while, but-.”

“No, no I was just- uh, walking the cowboy here.” Buzz paused and it occurred to Woody that he was waiting for an explanation for what had just happened. Not that there was any, at least on his part, so when no one said anything, Buzz seemed to catch the hint that he wasn’t getting it. “And. I did. Already.” he started to walk away, not quite convincing himself to turn his back on them “So. Uh. I better...”

“OK, if you say so.” Jessie said, waving him goodbye “Bye!”

“See ya.” Woody said, mentally adding _never_ , using two fingers to salute half-mockingly. Buzz seemed to finally give up on… whatever he was trying to achieve by not leaving them alone, and turned his back on them, walking away in a way that seemed almost sullen. Woody’s enjoyment on the matter lasted too little, though, for Bullseye started trying to lick and nibble at him again and it took Jessie’s intervention for him to be free once more. By then, though, he was already laughing, tickled by the horse’s lips trying to press what almost was a kiss to his face “Affectionate guy, huh?”

“Yes, he...” Jessie now seemed hesitant, looking at him and the horse alternatively “Uh, you were saying?”

“Oh! I’m Woody.” he offered her his hand “I’m here about the job, I take it you’re Miss Cowden.”

“But- oh, Jessie’s fine.” she replied, shaking it. Her grip was firmer than he’d expected for one so short; in fact, all about her gave off an aura like she could bench-press him without breaking a sweat, but she seemed otherwise preoccupied, “Will ya give me just a second? Be right back.”

She grabbed the horse by the reins and tugged at him around the corner of the house, out of Woody’s view. He heard a brief hushed exchange of words and neighs and looked behind him, wondering if it was too late to just go elsewhere for a job, but just as he was pondering it, Jessie emerged again, followed by the horse, looking a lot less enthusiastic.

“Sorry ‘bout that- uh, you said you’re here about the job?”

“If it’s not available anymore, I can-.” he pointed with his thumb behind him, already turning to leave.

“You’re hired.”

“I just want to make clear that- _what-_?” Bullseye chose that moment to dip under Woody’s arm so that he’d be hugging his neck. He didn’t even mind “What?”

Jesse motioned towards the horse with her chin.

“Bullseye’s excellent judgin’ a person’s character- if he thinks you’re OK, then you’re OK.” she shrugged “Come on in, we’ll sign the necessary papers.”

Woody stood where he was, too dazed to move until Bullseye gave him a soft nudge to set him on movement and he followed Jessie inside the house.

[No Name Town Map Ch.1](https://flic.kr/p/2gaXiqa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coolbluerays: I just want to say here that this was a HUGE labor of love and work for both me and CC. She brought me head first back into Toy Story and told me her crazy ideas, except to me, they were always far more incredible than she really gave herself credit for. Through a lot of talking, research, writing, editing, crying, and just god damn hard work, we actually created this together, and I couldn't be more proud to have done this WITH her. I really hope everyone who comes by this fic knows it comes from a place of love and respect to the people at Pixar, and to each other. 
> 
> I've never collaborated on a personal project for so long, whether it was by myself or with another person and the experience has been incredible to share with a person I’ve grown so close to over a span of 5 years starting from a very small fandom online. I was never even very confident in my own writing skills either, but CC has always inspired me through writing and art. Love ya CC.
> 
> //
> 
> TheMusicalCC: For anyone who doesn't know yet, coolbluerays is my go-to for showing my writing WIPs of any and all fandoms I'm in and also the delightful little devil on my shoulder planting the ideas for some of them, but we'd never actually co-wrote anything until now.
> 
> I can't exactly remember what the day was, but it must have been some good 2 months ago? That I first came to her with this weird idea of mine of a Human Toy Story AU that allowed to keep the charming, odd mixture of characters the original universe has, with all of their apparently contradicting characteristics. It was unpolished and insane, but she was on board immediately. By the time I started writing the prologue, she had already contributed with some ideas of her own, so naturally, it was a matter of time until we agreed she should be able to write it as well. To the point where now some parts are all her with some minor detailing on my part. It's great, to be honest! And we're just getting started...
> 
> I'm so grateful that I was allowed to meet someone this amazing, even if it's just over the internet- I'm even more grateful that we get to work together on something we're both madly invested in and allowed to be as crazy as we possibly can with it. Grateful and loving every minute! I love ya, kiddo.
> 
> Editt:: BTW that map up there? All coolbluerays work. She's so dedicated she actually went and figured what No Name looks like and made a pic of it- we can't show you all of it just yet, but you'll be seeing more and more of it as chapters pass. Srsly, this kid is so awesome.


	3. Newcomer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woody is taking some time adjusting.

**Chapter 2. Newcomer**

* * *

 

“It’s not really a fancy position.” Jessie had seemed almost apologetic, rubbing her elbow. Even in the hour Woody had spent with her, he’d realized she was probably just as young as she looked, and not really at ease with giving people bad news just yet and a pang of protectiveness spread through him. Sure, she was strange- but Woody never did mind strange that much. With a fair warning, he even welcomed it, “Mostly just… work that need to be done ‘round here. Sort of like a handyman- I wanted to put that on the ad but Chuck said ‘General Assistant’ sounded better- er, doesn’t mean you won’t get to herd at some point if necessary but-.”

“Hey.” Woody raised his hands in a placating gesture “I don’t mind. It’s a living.”

“Ya sure? I mean, your work history’s...” she peeked at his resume- an uncommon practice in his new line of job, but he found it did make things easier when arriving to a new place “Impressive. You seem to know your way ‘round critters.”

“You don’t work in the ranch business for years and not learn a thing or two.” he shrugged, hoping he sounded modest instead of cocky. Based on her look, he wasn’t sure he had, she looked like she was tempted to mock the statement.

“I’m more interested in the other thing, though.” Oh, snap. “You served with the police for years before startin’ on this line of work-.”

“Uh, not entirely.” Woody said, scratching his cheek “I’d done little works here and there when I was a kid and even did them on weekends when I was serving. I’ve been doing it literally all my life.”

“Yeah, but- a cop. I don’t know even one reason a cop would wanna be a ranch hand.” she eyed him uneasily, as though fearing he were hiding something. It didn’t surprise him. Most people, upon getting to know him, assumed he’d lost his temper in a context where he really shouldn’t have.

“I wasn’t fired, if it’s what you’re asking.”

She seemed genuinely ashamed.

“I wasn’t...” she breathed out “I’m not sayin’ that. I told you, I know you’re a good person”

“Because Bullseye thinks so, I know.” he still couldn’t get over that declaration, but Jessie didn’t seem to catch the sarcasm in his voice.

“But cops are...” she trailed off and started over “I just gotta wonder if you’re not gonna want to join the police force instead or somethin’.”

It was a strange thing to be concerned about- but then again, Jessie was a strange woman. Maybe she just didn’t like cops.

“I’ve no intention of picking up the old badge again.” he said with a small shrug, looking at her straight to the face.

“Sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.” he grinned at her, adjusting the hat over his head “I came _here_ , didn’t I?”

This seemed to leave her at ease. Upon showing him around the farmhouse, he had the feeling she was expecting him to bail, but truth be told, it was a nice place. Cozy, even, despite the fact that he could tell already one of his first chores was gonna be give it a thorough cleaning. His sleeping quarters were located on the attic. He examined the old but comfortable-looking bed and the naked mattress and asked Jessie why he was sleeping in there.

“You don’t like it?” she didn’t seem insecure anymore, just puzzled.

“That’s not it.” he assured “I just figured I’d be sleeping with the rest.” the only other person who had a room to herself was Jessie, but she was the boss, so it didn’t quite feel right.

“Ah.” she scratched her elbow again “Well- your schedules are gonna be a bit different, so I figured this worked better for both sides. That way you won’t wake them or they you-.” he dismissed that with a gesture. Early mornings weren’t a problem for him. He placed his backpack next to the bed and stretched his arms, “Tell you what- there should be clean sheets for this bed in the closet downstairs, next to the bathroom. Why don’t ya look for some for your bed? I really should get goin’ to the cows now.”

“Yes m’am.” he tipped his hat. She made a face, already halfway down the stairs.

“Don’t m’am me, it feels weird.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She groaned. Woody could already tell she’d be fun to be around.

After he’d made the bed, he found himself alone in the house, with no instruction of what to do. A quick exploration found him the broom closet easily and he rolled his sleeves up.

“Well, gotta start somewhere.”

He started with his room, placing his hat on the bed to keep it from getting on the way. It took him less than he’d expected, even with reorganizing some of the stuff still piled there, but trying to leave it close to the way it’d been before. The room wasn’t so dirty, really, he had the feeling they’d cleaned it up around the time the ad had been published, but the good sweep and mop he gave it was still necessary. He was barely done and moving on to the hall when Jessie came back, surprised to see him already on the move.

“I thought you’d be too tired to do anythin’ right now.”

“Not really.” Woody would have liked to tell her high energy levels were a thing he’d been cursed with basically since infancy. It was the whole reason his mother had insisted on him doing chores here and there on the nearby ranches, after finding him sitting on his windowsill talking to a nearby cat for lack of anything better to do- reasoning was that it was one step away from talking to himself and that talking to one’s self is the first sign of insanity, and thus Paloma had all but dragged him to the nearby ranch and asked the owner to assign him something to do. After scrubbing saddles, feeding the horses, carrying crates of milk and then his usual fare of homework and chores at home, Woody couldn’t have talked to anyone but his pillow if he’d tried. The next day was the same, and the one after too, and it eventually became routine. It hadn’t been exactly fun, but it had made him accustomed to being busy.

It was, however, a very long story and not one he wanted to tell anyone. Not just yet.

“Well, if you still got some juice, why don’t’cha help me with dinner?” Jessie said as she began to trek down to the first floor again. At the mention of food he remembered that aside from what RC’s mom had fed him in the morning, he hadn’t eaten anything else, and he hurried after Jessie hoping to find something to snack on in the meantime.

The rest of the ranch staff got to meet him until dinner. Rocky and Sketch were probably in their late teens and were diametrically opposite, and yet really good friends for what Woody could tell.

Rocky Gibbons had pale blonde hair that complimented his dark skin nicely. Despite his short height, he was very strong, with bulging arms and a broad chest that made Woody wonder if he wouldn’t be better off trying football for a good college scholarship-. Sketch (Or, according to his ID, Eddie Thatch-Aarons) for his part, was tall and thin, with pale skin and a crown of bright red and a square, dimpled face. How he managed to get any of the ranch work done with a body so skinny was beyond Woody, but it seemed like he fared alright, well enough to have the energy to draw at the end of the day. Drawing, he told Woody, was his true passion. He was hoping to make enough money to travel to a big city and try for fortune there since his attempts in No Name had gone mostly unnoticed.

“It’s not bad art either.” Jessie said as Woody helped himself to the beans and sausages they’d made for the day “His sketches are really good- ‘s just, the community here isn’t that interested in arts. Rex promised to help him with it, but he’s got enough on his plate as it is- oh, Rex is from the Museum, in town. Sketch helped him with some of the illustrations for the tags.”

“Why has he got enough on his plate?” Woody asked.

“Well, handling a museum, even a small one that just talks about local trees and animals, isn’t easy. But it seems like he found something in the area nearby Mount Silver Scale that he wants to look into more deeply- the Mayor’s not a fan of the idea.”

“The Mayor’s not a fan of anything that doesn’t make’im look good.” Rocky snorted.

“Which is why it’s odd.” Jesse countered, scowling lightly “If it’s somethin’ big, imagine how much praise he’d get from having given the OK to dig. The whole thing reeks.”

“Hey, we got company, Jessie, keep the paranoia to a minimum or you’re gonna scare the guy.” Burt jerked his head towards Woody, laughing. Before he could clarify he didn’t mind, though, Jessie breathed and switched topics, and the conversation quickly became less tense, with everyone exchanging jokes and comments. The one person, though, that Woody barely heard open his mouth or so much as laugh the whole time, was Jessie’s third ranch-hand, a middle-aged man with shaggy salt and pepper hair that grew only on the sides of his head and a very grim-looking face. His name, as he gathered, was Chuck, and he’d been serving in the ranch even before Jessie’s gran retired and left her in charge. He listened to the conversation with the occasional amused hum, but didn’t participate unless necessary, eyes under the perpetually scowling eyebrows scanning Woody up and down at every chance, making him uneasy. He felt like ole Chuck was deciding what size of coffin they’d need to put him in the local cemetery. He was done eating before everyone else and left with a grunt of thanks and a nod of his head, making his way for the sleeping bunk.

“We should go to bed too.” Jessie remarked, as she handed the dishes to Rocky and he made his way to the sink to start washing them, “Long day ahead of us. You too, Woody.”

“Uh, sure.” Woody felt like he could stand to stay awake a bit longer, but he had a feeling it was a bad idea, if only because he wasn’t sure of his schedules yet “What- uh, what am I doing tomorrow?”

“What Buzz calls a recon mission.” she said with a fond chuckle, toying with her braid as she spoke in a manner that revealed well-concealed giddiness at the topic “He was in the army, you know. A pilot. So he says weird stuff like that all the time- what it actually means is ya gotta look ‘round the ranch for things that need fixin’ and make me a list of it and of what you’re gonna need for it- Chuck can help ya with that, if there’s somethin’ ya don’t know.”

Woody made a face, wondering what would be a polite way to decline out of concern of his bodily integrity when it came to Chuck, but nothing came to him and he kept quiet. He did get a glimpse of the old worker as he made his way to the attic after a quick shower, though, sitting on the windowsill, eyes set on the fields, scowl in place as his companions were getting ready to sleep. And for a fleeting moment Woody wondered what, exactly, he was on the lookout for.

* * *

Just like Jessie had said, his next day was spent in listing what things needed to be worked on. A broken down beam on the barn here, equipment in questionable conditions there. Burt actually handed him his own list of things the stables needed, which mostly consisted in another coat of paint or stuff like that. Chuck simply pointed Woody towards some areas of the fence that needed repairing, asked if he knew how to deal with it and grunted in something that might have been approval when Woody assured he did… then again, it might have been annoyance. Hard to tell. All the while, Bullseye had stayed on his heel the way a very faithful (Or apprehensive) dog would have. Woody couldn’t really understand why his boss’s horse was so infatuated with him, but he didn’t mind the attention- as long as it didn’t come with sticky licks on his face. He managed to get a glimpse at the farm on the other side of the road, a pastel-colored wooden structure among crop fields that looked very fruitful. Even the trees at the far back looked heavy with fruit- that couldn’t be right, Woody couldn’t think of any fruit that were in season at the moment. But before he could think about it any longer, Bullseye put his nose on his ear and tickled him, breaking his train of thought as he squirmed away, laughing despite himself.

By the time he got back to the main house with a full list, it was past noon and Jessie was barely coming back from the fields, covered in dust and sweat, but positively glowing for it, and stopped him on his way in.

“What’cha got for me, cowboy?” she asked, taking the list from him to eye it “...uh-huh, OK, we can go into town to get this now- go ask Burt to get the cart ready.”

“Cart? Oh, the truck-.” Woody reminded himself “It’s not getting fixed until next week.”

“That’s right, so in the meantime I hope ya know how to use one of these.” she threw Bullseye a look, still behind Woody like the world’s biggest lap dog an amused glance “I think Bullseye’s gonna want to go with ya, so tell Burt to hook’im up. I’m just gonna shower real quick.”

* * *

No Name Town was just as lively as Woody had seen it the previous day and no one seemed to look at the horse cart twice, despite Woody feeling a bit silly driving it. He’d worked on a Wild West tourist trap for one of his first real jobs in life and his thing had been precisely driving the cart that took people into town, around it and back to the parking lot. Which he was painfully aware of how ridiculous it had looked back then- he very much doubted he looked any better now. Jessie didn’t look like it bothered her.

“Stop here.” she said as she all but leaped off the cart and onto the sidewalk without waiting for him to obey, and she made her way to a small but almost obsessively clean-looking workshop. The sign on top read, in a painted rocket ship soaring through a starry sky, “Lightyear.”

“Hey, Buzz!” Jessie called out. Woody saw the front desk leap a bit, heard an _‘Oof’_ and then saw the alluded crawl out from under it, rubbing his head, much to her mortification “Oh, dang, sorry, hadn’t realized you were there- you alright?”

“I’m food-! I mean goone-! _I’mfine_ ” he sputtered, still rubbing the top of his head but managing a smile even through the grimacing of his tangled tongue “Uh, how- how are you?”

“I’m good, just came to do some shoppin’ with the new guy.” she pointed at Woody with her thumb and Buzz looked at him, much less amicable-looking than he’d been the previous day “He gotta start on the job as soon as he can, but we need the materials. I thought I’d drop by and say hi, since you left in such a hurry yesterday.”

“Oh...” he seemed a bit taken aback by this. Not in a bad way, either “I was just- uh, you know, I couldn’t leave the place alone” which only made Woody wonder why he hadn’t been there in the first place. Where he’d been headed when they’d crossed ways “And I got a lot of work from the school- the kids in the elementary keep jamming stuff like peanut butter on the video cassette player and-”

“It’s fine!” Jessie said, a bit too merrily. Woody couldn’t see her face, but he could see she was fiddling with her braid almost nervously “But, you know you can stop by anytime, right?” _Oh_. Woody barely kept himself from grinning knowingly. He’d seen crushes too many times not to know one when he saw it and this one was on both sides and just as awkward on each side. It was sort of cute. Buzz was too busy mouthing to reply and Jessie continued, suddenly hasty “Anyway- gotta get some tools for Woody now, but, uh, see you ‘round?”

“Sure- oh, I could lend you some, if you want.” he added hurriedly “What do you need?”

“Ya sure? He could be keepin’ them for a while, there’s a lot to be done.” He shrugged her worries off, and Jessie bounced a bit on her feet in glee “Thanks! You’re the best!”

Buzz went pink with satisfaction and Woody finally thought to look away and let his eyes wander around the street, lingering on things they had no business to linger on if only to grant Jessie some privacy. He inspected the school buildings -they looked relatively new, he had to wonder if before that the kids had to travel to another town every day- and caught a glimpse of one of the classroom windows. One boy was slouched over his desk in front of the window, seemingly trying but not succeeding to stay interested in whatever they were teaching him, listlessly and almost absently taking notes. The boy suddenly looked Woody’s way, startling him, and his face lit up at his sight. Woody was made conscious of how he looked with this, driving a horse cart and wearing his usual plaid, jeans and boots, with the brown cowboy hat on top, but at the boy’s delighted smile, he found himself oddly proud instead of self-conscious. Did the little guy like cowboys? Not that he blamed him, he’d been crazy into cowboys as a kid, himself; it probably had to do with the brown hat that had rested on top of the fireplace, under a portrait of his own father wearing the same hat, riding a horse that looked huge and silky, a lasso to his hip. He’d been eager to try the hat on since an early age, instead of the red wool felt one he donned for his usual games. His mother and grandmother, however, insisted that he should wait. That a time for it would come.

Eventually, the day came. On the morning he left for police academy, and he’d considered telling them to keep it, but perhaps part of him knew he’d need something like a lucky charm out there. That he’d need the strength. He hadn’t been wrong. The hat was, in the end, sort of a sign of fate. On his lowest point, when he got lost, the hat was there. He tried it on and it fit. And he’d known what the next step was. Dad looking out for him, perhaps.

He tipped his hat, causing the kid to giggle in delight- and promptly be caught by the teacher, it seemed, because he straightened out abruptly, looking forward and then back at his notes, scribbling furiously. Woody wanted to laugh, specially when the boy still eyed him with his mouth tight to avoid laughing again, as if they shared a secret, waved goodbye at him discreetly and then went back to his notes. He seemed nice.

Still looking around idly, something caught his eye- there, in front of him, on the sidewalk, leaving the library- a flash of pink cotton and the bounce of curls. It would be a lie to say he spotted her and was immediately floored, but it was something like that. His eyes pinned on her shape and he couldn’t unpin them anymore, even if he wanted to.

Whatever she was saying to her companion, it was with an amused curl to her lips, as she offered the old woman her arm to hang to, her other hand busy with the messenger bag hanging from her shoulder, closing the zipper. It was really that smile that he latched on, looking sharp and soft at the same time- dangerous and alluring; he guessed if forests or deserts could smile, could invite one traveler to get lost in them forever, that’d be the kind of smile they’d have. The sight didn’t last long, she turned her back towards him and accompanied the old woman until they turned the corner and away from him. The last Woody saw of her were blonde curls tied in a low ponytail with a blue ribbon disappearing behind the bricks.

Reality took a moment to set back in again- Woody finally understood why in films these moments were accompanied by soft synth music, a gust of wind that came from nowhere, slow-mo takes and the rest of the scene freezing in place. That’s what it felt like, despite the fact that instead of moving towards her with his mouth hanging open like an idiot, the way characters in these films did, he’d just frozen in place, hands gripping at Bullseye’s reins absently. And that instead of freezing in place, Jessie was now behind him saying something he hadn’t paid attention to.

“Wh-what? I’m sorry, come again?” he said, turning to her and Jessie was already looking in the general direction he’d been staring, suspicious. Next to her, Buzz was loading two tool-boxes into the cart, eyeing him with the same curiosity.

“What’d I miss?” Jessie asked “What’cha lookin’ at?”

“Nothing.” he tried to control the nervous fumbling of his hands, to little avail “I was just thinking- uh, about the boutique, I didn’t think there’d be a place like that here.”

“Oh- well, we have a really talented seamstress here. She rents dresses out for the proms and all, but she also makes more casual clothes- it’s a small town, but we do like to look smart. Maybe I’ll introduce you two at some point.”

“Uh-huh” he mumbled, scratching his ear, setting eyes back to where the woman with the sharp smile had disappeared.

“Welp, thank you again Buzz!” Jessie said as she climbed back onto the cart to elbow Woody. It took him a moment.

“Yes, thank you.” he spat between his teeth.

“Anytime.” Buzz was smiling but his eyes spelled murder. Woody had no idea of what he’d done to earn that kind of glare but the feeling was mutual.

“We better get goin’! We still gotta stop for wood planks for the fence at Potemkim’s- see ya ‘round, Buzz!”

“Yeah...” Buzz’s voice was somewhere between breathless, sad and elated. _Poor sucker_ , Woody thought as he started the cart “Oh- and, uh, I’ll be there on Sunday to fix the truck!”

“Alright! I’ll be waitin’!” Jessie called back to him, waving almost madly “See ya on Sunday!”

“See you on Sunday!” Buzz called back one last time. Then Jessie straightened on her seat fiddling with her fingers, a smile on her face, just as Woody reached the corner the woman with the sharp smile and her companion had turned and found himself looking at the No Name Town General Store.

“Do I stop here?” he asked. Jessie stayed in her own little world for a moment, and then started, realizing she was being talked to.

“Uh- yeah! Gotta get the boards- and I think I’ll get pancake mix while I’m at it, we haven’t had any in a dog’s age. Come on.” she jumped off the cart and Woody hesitated.

“Shouldn’t I stay here to take care of the cart?”

She paused at the door.

“Why?”

“Someone could take it.”

She dismissed that with a gesture.

“Bullseye won’t move for anyone that isn’t you.” and before he could ask what she meant, she went into the store. He hesitated for another beat, but decided to obey all the same, patting Bullseye’s side as thanks before entering the store. The place had high ceilings and good illumination, with mirrors on the corners and a mean-looking rifle mounted on the wall as a warning to anyone who would want to shop-lift.

“Haven’t seen your face ‘round here before” the man behind the counter told Woody, his voice the tiniest bit hostile, as he looked up and down at him. His round eyes complimented his big nose and mustache, giving him an almost likeable face- however, his thick eyebrows set over his eyes in a hard scowl and the sour gesture of his mouth annulled the effect. Something about his clothes and the way his black, already receding black hair were combed made Woody think about the words ‘ _Suburban dad_ ’ for no real reason “Passing through?”

“He’s with me, Mr. Potemkim” Jessie said as she approached the front desk to deposit a bag of pancake mix, a gallon of milk and three cans of beans “Name’s Woody, he’s stayin’ at the ranch.” Woody tipped his hat at the man who barely acknowledged with a nod “He’s the, uh-.”

“The handyman.” Woody said with a chuckle.

“I was gonna say General Assistant, but sure” Jessie rolled her eyes at him “He needs some boards for the fence, can you help’im with that? I think I’mma grab some fruit- oh, has Bo been here yet?”

“A while ago. With _Madame Demetria_ ” the last words were said in a mock posh tone and with a roll of the man’s head “So they didn’t stay long, as you’d gather- Demetria was flying off again tonight, so _of course_ she demanded Bo spent as much time with her as possible.”

“And the deliveries?”

“In the back- Hey, Betty!” he called over his shoulder, towards the stairs leading to the second floor, where the inventory rooms were “A little help here.”

“I’ll be right down!” came a woman’s voice.

“She’ll take the payment-” Potemkim told Jessie “Now, let’s go, cowboy.”

Potemkim made his way around the counter and led Woody to the corner of the store where they kept the boards. Between the two of them, two dozens of thick wooden boards were soon piled at the cart, ready to go. Jessie joined them shortly after with her groceries in paper bags, a woman with soft gaze and a friendly smile on her rounded face came after her, seemingly for the sole purpose of taking a look at Woody.

“You’re Jessie’s new employee, then?” she asked as Woody finished placing the groceries and offered him her hand “I’m Mrs. Potempkim. Sorry if my husband has a sour face. He’s nicer than he looks, I promise.” her husband made a grunt-coughing noise that conveyed either embarrassment or annoyance and she laughed it off, releasing Woody’s hand “Let us know if you need anything, OK?”

 “Yeah, thank you, m’am” Woody said with another tip of his hat as he climbed back onto the cart, as Jessie did the same on the other side. He took a moment to look at the surroundings, half-hoping to see the woman again, even just a glimpse of pink or gold, but she was nowhere to be found. Letting out his breath through his nose, he snapped the reins softly and Bullseye started moving again.

“By the way, who’s Bo?” he asked as they started making their way to the dirt road leading to the ranch, if only because he didn’t want to spend the road in silence. Something about the way Potemkim immediately seemed to decide he didn’t like him had stuck to him and he needed a bit of reassurance.

“Our neighbor.” Jessie said a bit distracted “That big farm on the other side of the road from the ranch? That’s Bo’s.”

“Oh.” Woody frantically tried to think of something to say but he couldn’t find anything.

“Woody, can I ask you something?” Jessie suddenly said.

“Uh, sure?”

“Why’d you pick No Name Town?” he eyed her and she immediately added, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love this place and it’s a great one to live in- but it’s not exactly accessible and, to be honest, not that well-known either. You said people kept givin’ you the wrong directions- it’s ‘cause most don’t even _know_ we’re here. There were probably tons of places you could’ave gone to instead.”

“Is there something wrong with me being here?” Woody asked, a bit defensive. He really didn’t know what this questionnaire was all about all of a sudden, but he was liking less with every second. Jessie averted her eyes.

“Well… no it’s just weird, it’s susp-” she cut herself in the middle of the word, but Woody knew what she was going to say all the same. Suspicious “And, anyway I still think it’s funny that you’d give up on being a cop to be a ranch-hand in the middle of nowhere.”

“I haven’t been a cop in _years._ ” Woody defended. Actually, perhaps it’d be more accurate to say he wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ been a real cop, but if Jessie was suspecting him of something… untoward, saying that wouldn’t help. She was studying his face “What?” she averted her eyes again.

“Nevermind- I guess I’m being nosey, huh?”

“Yeah, you really are.” he said, letting a little hurt seep into his tone.

“I gotta take care of my people, Woody.” she said, very serious. He looked at her, furrowing his brow. Why was _he_ a danger to ‘Her people’?

“I’m not dangerous” he said, though, because he _could_ understand why people would be wary of the police… all too well. “Honest.”

Jessie studied him for a moment. Bullseye huffed in front of them, sounding a bit annoyed at Woody.

“I believe you.” Jessie finally said, reclining back on the seat, “I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the butt later on.”

* * *

The next three days were a series of small jobs here and there that he was satisfied to be able to show off as very well done, if only because he had a deep, visceral hatred for the notion of being seen as unreliable or untrustworthy. There was a bit of comfort on the discovery that whatever Jessie’s doubts on him were, Sketch and Rocky didn’t seem to share them, they were friendly as ever to him and didn’t particularly mind their words in front of him. He couldn’t tell for sure with Burt, because while he was still pretty welcoming, he still gave off the feeling that he was hiding something. Jessie didn’t really change her way of treating him, but he couldn’t forget her almost-use of the word ‘Suspicious’ in their conversation, or the way she clung to his past career as a cop, so it was him that took distance, acting almost cold towards her.

Chuck, though… Chuck was another story. 

He didn’t seem to talk unless strictly necessary, and when he spoke to Woody, it felt like he was working extra hard on being intimidating. Woody suspected he was trying to scare him off and the thought irked him enough that he briefly considered quitting- just looking for something else in town or full out leaving No Name. However, his mom had been right about him being stubborn, as it turned out. If they wanted him gone, they’d have to fire him. And he wasn’t going to give them a good reason for it.

He worked twice as hard as before, going through the repairs of the fence and the barn pretty much on his own. At some point Jessie offered to get someone from town to help him but he declined.  He thought of Potemkim’s hostile eyes on him and wasn’t sure he could keep his wits to himself if he had to see that look on anyone else. At night he would retire to his room as soon as he could and let his mind cling to comforting thoughts to hang on to. Bullseye’s fondness of him, RC and his mom, the boy on the window, Mrs. Potemkim, the woman with the sharp smile…

One night, already half-asleep, he imagined that she looked at him with the same contempt and suspicion as Potemkim and was so upset that he had to get out of bed, throw some clothes and a pair of shoes on himself and get out of the farmhouse, feeling like he could scream. He legged his way to the entrance of the ranch, looking at the road absently, letting the cold air of the night cling to his skin.

‘ _Why’d you pick No Name?_ ’

The offer had caught his eye, it was all. Probably the town’s name (Or lack thereof), or maybe just how hilariously fitting the name ‘Cowden’ was for a ranch. It had given him a good feeling. To be honest, that had been it- following his instincts was the one thing he’d learned from his time as a cop that he’d _liked_ learning - but this time it looked like it had led him astray. He was a stranger in town, and that much he could live with -he was the newcomer, after all- but the fact that he was also being treated like… some sort of time bomb or criminal. Well. There was a reason his name was _Pride_.

His eyes wandered over to the farmhouse on the other side of the road, idly wondering if they’d be hiring. Then again, this Bo person might be just as wary of him as Jessie had turned out to be. What kind of name was Bo, anyway? He’d had a boss at some point. Tall Danish man who owned a ‘Traditional’ farm near Milwaukee. One of his teenage sons, who at the age of fifteen had already been just as tall as Woody was, had that name, and Woody had always wondered what it was short for. His mind conjured the image of a very similar, but older and stronger man as the most likely owner of the neighboring farm and he made a face. That was one person he did _not_ want to be on the bad side of just… being.

“Wait ‘till morning” came a voice behind him, making him flail in fright “I’m sure Jessie’ll drop you off at the bus station if you just ask.” Chuck approached, eyes set on Bo’s farm as well, ignoring Woody’s bewildered look. He had a cigarette held between his lips, was wearing clown-themed pajamas under his jacket and looked like he hadn’t actually gone to sleep at all, “But walking these lonely roads at night is dangerous. Stupid, even.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Woody said, a tad offended “I just- I needed some air.”

“Hm.” Chuck lit his cigarette and stood there in silence until Woody was too uncomfortable to bear it.

“I’m going back to bed now.” he said, turning to leave, but just then, Chuck seemingly decided to make up for all his previous lack of dialogue.

“Do you know what a cerberus dog is?” he asked, almost casually. Woody considered simply not replying and continuing to leave, but he was still, despite himself, intimidated by him, so he stayed.

“Uhh it has many heads, right?” he retorted. Chuck nodded dryly. Just once.

“Yes. A giant beast with three or more heads- I remember I read somewhere that it’s supposed to guard the gates of hell. Allows anyone to go through, it’s coming out that he won’t allow.” _Right_ , Woody thought, _that didn’t sound at all like he’s going to pull out a knife and ask me if I want to see a magic trick_ \- however, instead of that, he continued. “One time I delayed at the town past midnight, visiting-.” he paused, as though realizing he was saying too much, much to Woody’s annoyance, and then continued, “Visiting some folks over there. They drove me all the way here and left and I stayed here for a while, just taking in the sights. The stars. The fields. Ain’t nothing like this place in the world, y’know.”

“Figures” Woody said, just as Chuck took a long drag from his cigarette and used it’s glowing tip to point at the northern edge of the farm.

“That’s where I saw it”

Woody waited an appropriate amount of time before asking.

“You saw… what?”

“Cerberus. Big hairy beast with three heads and eyes that glowered like hellfires.” Chuck said, looking at Woody with an intensity that was scary. Woody waited for the laugh, or the ‘ _Gotcha, just kidding_ ’ that was meant to come after that kind of declaration. No such luck, and he smiled nervously.

“Right.”

“It just stood there, staring right at me with those creepy eyes.”

“ _Right._ ”

“And it had something in his mouth. In one of them.”

“Of course.” Chuck grunted at him and Woody hurriedly added “Uh, what- what was it?”

“I don’t know. I thought I saw it move- it kind of looked like a person” Chuck’s eyes were pinned on Woody’s to a degree where it was getting scary. It was probably the intention “Some poor fool sniffing where they shouldn’t have been sniffing in the middle of the night...” he let the words hover and Woody barely held back from gulping. That sounded a lot like he was being accused and threatened “Or maybe it was something else. Who knows. One of the other heads took out a chunk and it stopped moving.”

Woody once more gave him a pause to clarify that he was actually kidding, that this story was a hazing of some sort, but when Chuck just silently drilled eye-holes into him, Woody coughed, uncomfortable.

“And- and what happened next?” he asked, eyes traveling to the spot again, uneasy despite himself.

“It turned and left. I guess it thought I looked too hard to eat” Chuck let out a humorless laugh “I went to bed and, y’know, the next morning I asked Jessie to call over to the farm and see if anything bad had happened- I thought maybe what I’d seen on the monster’s mouth had been Bo, or one of the sheep but...” he shook his head “Nuthin’. Not even a little sprout out of place. And whoever that poor soul was- if it was a person, because, again, I ain’t sure, no one ever came looking for them. Just disappeared without a trace and no one thought to look here.” he took another long drag out of the cigarette and spoke through smoke next “I do wonder why it went after them and not me. Maybe it likes the taste of outsider meat, is all. Who knows?”

Woody was pretty much a mass of twitchy nervous limbs at this point, but he managed to keep his tone more or less calm.

“I- uh, no offense, but, how do you know it wasn’t some… trick of perspective or, or your imagination or something like that?”

Chuck’s mouth twisted a bit, the closest to a smile he could do, Woody thought.

“See, I thought about that too. That maybe my old eyes had been playing tricks on me, or the lack of sleep had gotten me, But I went to check- even though Bo insisted it wasn’t necessary. I wanted to be sure. You’ll never guess what I found by the stone fence” he jerked his head towards the spot again. “Scorch marks. Like big black pawprints. They went on towards Lake Deep End” he used the cigar’s tip to point further away “But I didn’t follow’em, y’know. I’d seen enough to know my eyes weren’t deceiving me-.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Woody cut him, annoyance flaring in him, barely contained. Chuck twisted his lips once again.

“It seemed like a fine night for a scary story.” he said, discarding his cigarette.

“Why are you trying to scare me off?” Woody demanded, unable to keep himself from it. Chuck’s expression was unreadable.

“You can’t blame me if you got into the kitchen and couldn’t stand the heat, boy” he said. Woody felt his eyebrows raise. No one had called him boy since he was on high-school, “But, y’know- I do mean it when I say if you wanna leave, Jessie can take you to town in the morning. Strange things happen at night around here.”

With that, he turned and left Woody standing in the dark, eyeing the farm uneasily until he couldn’t take it anymore and headed back inside. That night he dreamed he could hear howling across the fields.

* * *

“Ssssso, I heard you and Chuck had a talk”

Woody looked up from the shirt he was currently mending by the barn window, making the most of the midday light. Jessie’s expression was somewhere between mortified and wary.

“He told you?” he would have thought Chuck would keep the conversation between them, if only to avoid looking like the villain of the situation.

“Yeah- well, uh, basically he said he went out to have a smoke and found you _sniffin’ round_ at the road- his words, not mine” she added hurriedly, raising both hands as though to placate Woody’s potential annoyance at the expression.

“I just needed air.” Woody said sullenly, eyes back down on his work “I told him that.”

“Bad dream?” she asked, eyeing his tired face. He pulled his hat down a bit, only to try and hide the shadows under his eyes.

“Something like that- look, it doesn’t matter anyway, he just told me some campfire story about a monster in the surroundings and- what?” Jessie was looking at him with wide and worried eyes.

“What’d he tell ya?” she hissed. Woody considered her for a moment. What was she working herself up about?

“Some story about a three-headed dog that eats strangers- look it doesn’t matter, I know he was just trying to scare me. It’s fine. I’m not a kid, I know stuff like that doesn’t exist.” he turned back to his sewing, scowling lightly “I just wish I knew what his problem with me is. Probably the same as yours.”

“I don’t have a problem with you.” Jessie protested mildly, looking abashed. Woody hummed, skeptical.

“In any case, what’s the issue? I didn’t believe one word.”

“Oh good!” Jessie sighed “I was worried you were gonna ask me to take you to the bus station after all that.”

He scoffed.

“It was the idea, but I ain’t that easy to get rid of.” he paused “...unless I’m not welcome here, that is.”

Jessie didn’t get to reply. Suddenly, outside, a horse whinnied frantically, with a shrill, scared sound that made both of them start, followed by some sort of whooshing whistle, the kind cables do when the wind is strong, and the screams of Sketch. Jessie rushed to the door, Woody at her heels.

“What the-?” Woody started, running out from the barn, distressed cattle mooing and running around the field. The sight of them running right toward him was enough to make him jump back, however they smashed right into the solid wooden fence, luckily not breaking through it. He did worry if they’d break a bone or two ramming into each other the way they did. The chaos and confusion making them trip and topple one another. Inside the fence, but at a safe distance, Sketch and Rocky looked at a loss of what to do. A loud screech from up above stopped him in his tracks, and looking up, he saw huge wings flying off to the east. _What kind of bird is that?_ He wondered. Jessie was yelling, telling everyone to get to safety, barking orders or something right at Chuck and Burt that he couldn’t catch. Bullseye ran out from the stables, neighing in distress, huffing and grunting, stamping his hoof. He threw a worried look at Woody.

“I know- Come on Bullseye!” he beckoned him over, grabbing a roll of rope hanging on the wall nearby. He ran to the fence, the horse running ahead to jump it. Following suit, he jumped up to the top with a swift movement… that consequently had him tripping over. “AUGH!” Bullseye dipped down to catch his fall, “Thanks, boy-” he said, adjusting his hat and his body over the horse’s back. Bullseye snickered softly, stopping when Woody threw him an almost stern glare.

Jessie finally noticed them close to the chaos, her face going white.

“ _Whatthe_ -?! Woody what are ya doin’-?! Are you crazy?” she shouted after him. Chuck was running towards them from the stable, dragging two horses by the reins, his jaw all but dropping when he spotted Woody “Get back over here before ya get run over!”

“Jessie, I have to try-! Just-! Trust me, OK?” he said, throwing her a look. He tried to keep his face stoic and calm, but he could feel his hands trembling, and a nervous twitch on his lip. He was scared out of his mind, and she must have noticed. Her eyes were on him, almost too surprised to show anything but that, mouthing frantically, trying to find words that would bring him to his senses, most likely. But before she could say anything he ran off with Bullseye, weaving in and out through the cattle that crashed into the fence and each other violently, screeching, making them disperse at least enough that they weren’t actively ramming heads, legs and hooves into each other. Distantly, he thought he could hear Sketch and Rocky calling to him. Telling him he was gonna get killed. Ah, nothing like the unconditional support of your peers.

“God I hope this works...” he muttered under his breath, tying his rope into a lasso, aiming and throwing the rope at a nearby cow’s neck. The cow tried to run off but Woody quickly pulled and wrapped the rope in his arms, pulling and tugging until his arms felt numb and swollen. At some point, he was almost pulled off Bullseye’s back, but horse and man had fallen into an organic, perfectly synchronized affinity that made them seem like a centaur rather than horse and rider, and they recovered and continued to pull.

“Woah- woah-! Come here- it’s alright- you’re OK” he said in a gentle soothing tone. The cow tugged, still resisting and he hissed in pain, Bullseye slowly walking backwards to stop the cow in its tracks.

For the longest time, Woody had had a strange effect on animals; when he spoke, they would stop and stare, as if they knew what he was saying, as if they were _listening_ to him. He figured it must have been a purely animalistic curiosity that drew them to him like moths to a flame, or something like what happened with babies as well, who couldn’t really understand one thing said to them, but enjoyed being talked to nonetheless. It was why he’d found himself talking to cats and sparrows at his childhood home, much to his mom’s displeasure. He just hoped that whatever it was, it would work here- or else there was a good chance he was going to the hospital today and he had no money to pay for the bill. _Barely been a week and I might be dying- it’s a new all time record,_ he thought, biting back from saying the remark out loud. Not that anyone (Or anything) here would understand enough to find it offensive. Honestly it was a decent perk when working with animals, except when they threatened to rip his arms from right out of their joints.

Slowly not just the cow he caught, but the others around him stopped in their tracks, and looked at him, surrounding him and Bullseye in a tightly knit circle. They mooed at one another, as if in a heated debate, whatever for, he had no clue.

“Whatever happened- it’s over” he panted, eyes scanning all the bovine faces, reassuring “There's nothing here that will hurt you- I promise.”

If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn some of the cows looked _skeptical_ of him. Loosening the rope, and pulling it off the cow’s neck. He rubbed his sore arms until the blood slowly flowed and warmed his limbs, turning them raw and red from the rope burns. He’d be in a sea of pain as soon as adrenaline wore off, he knew.

Gently, he squeezed Bullseyes in the sides, slowly leading the herd to the front, where the rest of the ranch staff stood, looking at him in disbelief. Jessie stared at him with a wide eyed look on her face as he climbed down from the horse, his legs almost bending- he’d been more scared than he’d known. She reached for him, keeping him steady.

“How did’ya... do that?” she asked slowly, while Sketch and Rocky worked on guiding the cattle to the barns. Woody shrugged, still struggling to regain his breath.

“Practice from all my time on ranches. I guess” he finished off, rather lamely. 

“Some practice” Rocky said, very serious “By weight alone, you shouldn’t have been able to do it-”

“Don’t start with numbers, kid, they give me headaches” Chuck said.

“But it’s true! Woody’s… what? A hundred-forty-something pounds? The average cow weighs more than ten times that, approximately a thousand, five-hundred and eighty pounds, give or take. It’s-”

“Look, kid, if you can run numbers then you can herd, come on, let’s get them all in the barn.”

Rocky obeyed, still ranting about mass and force and a lot of things Woody only vaguely understood. To his credit, no one else seemed to follow either. Jessie’s eyes still asked for an explanation, but, what _could_ he say? It’s not like he could very well explain it to her- not without getting kicked out and sent away that is. She already seemed to think he was some sort of menace without topping it up with the admission that he was pretty sure he’d talked the cows into submission. It wasn’t something normal people needed to know.

Then again, he argued with himself, none of them were very normal. He supposed they were just a very tight knit community and seemly very close after many years of working together on her ranch- close enough that he felt left out. Honestly he had never gotten chummy enough to any of his employers and coworkers to feel comfortable enough to joke or share a drink with them, or feel _really_ included in the group. Part of him wondered if it was the reason he ended up unable to stay every time.

However the smile Jessie threw his way, as she tugged Bullseye back to the stable, gave him a strange hopeful feeling that maybe he was on his way. Suddenly, a clap on his back made him stumble forward and groan.

“That was impressive, cowboy.” Burt said, seemingly oblivious to the pain he’d caused.

“Argh… thank you?” Woody wheezed.

“You know, I think we get it now.”

“What?” Woody looked back at him and Burt smiled with an air that he knew more than Woody did and enjoyed it being that way. How old was he, anyway? He sounded way older than he looked and Woody hadn’t really noticed how unsettling that was until now.

“What you’re doing here”

* * *

To say that after the incident with the cattle, the mood of Cowden ranch had shifted in what Woody respected was an understatement. Sketch and Rocky pretty much acted like they’d discovered Woody was a lost prince or something like that, much too excited and awed at him. Chuck’s demeanor softened considerably, although Woody still felt like he was being measured for his shroud by those eyes sometimes- at least he wasn’t actively trying to make him leave, which was something. Burt, to his credit, stayed pretty much the same, which made Woody realize he most likely had never really intended on being hostile to him. Jessie fretted over the rope burns on his arms far too much, even after having examined and bandaged them herself, and seemed determined to make up for any mistrust she had for him before, coming to the point of being a tad overwhelming.

“I should’ave known.” she said to him that afternoon, as the sun begun to hide behind the green, dark mountains of the horizon, past the desertified valley, and they were sitting on the farmhouse porch, enjoying the breeze “I should’ave known Bullseye couldn’t be wrong about you.” she sighed, resting her forehead over her knees “It was me that got it wrong. I’m sorry.”

Part of Woody wanted to goad, but Jessie seemed so legitimately downhearted that he couldn’t bring himself to it. Besides, he couldn’t stop thinking of the… the thing that had flown over him. He’d read about condors that could snatch lambs down at the mountains of Peru, and about eagles that were as long as horses from the tip of one wing to the other, but what he’d seen… he wasn’t sure if it had been a bird. It gave him a feeling of underhanded danger that he didn’t think he could shake off anytime soon.

“I get it.” he said “You said you’re taking care of your people, and I believe you.”

 “Hm.” she didn’t sound convinced.

“But I’d like to know _what_ it is you’re protecting them of that you thought I was a threat.” he pinned eyes on her and Jessie seemed to sink a bit where she sat, breathing out “Because what spooked the cows today didn’t look like any bird I’d ever seen in my life, not even on TV or books...” he thought about the trucker’s story and the eyes in the dark of the forest and even Chuck’s story about the cerberus “And something tells me it’s not even the weirdest thing around here.”

Jessie kept her eyes on the sands, far away, for a moment, as if considering his words.

“I don’t know if you’d believe any of it when I tell you” she finally whispered “But I will try. Just- not today, Woody. I think it’s been enough emotion for one day.”

“When, then?” he asked, letting impatience seep into his tone.

“Just… be patient. I promise, you’ll know soon, ‘k?”

The sky was a blur of heavy violets and reds, the shadows of the night advancing on them already and Woody thought that, despite everything, it was a beautiful place.

“OK.”

 

[No Name Town Map Ch. 2](https://flic.kr/p/2gjSE4u)

[No Name Town Map Ch.2 Close-Up](https://flic.kr/p/2gjTbQX)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CC: This chapter contains one of the first separate excerpts written by coolbluerays in which I only had a hand on the editing and I love it to bits. Aside from that, I hope we're really as sleek as we think we are sliding the supernatural elements in there huhuh.
> 
> //
> 
> coolbluerays: Hi everyone! I had to come in and edit a few confusing wordings. Jessie owns a ranch and everyone introduced this chapter works on her ranch, so they're ranch hands. Ranch is a form of a farm but I realized that it might confuse people seeing as there is already a traditional crop producing type farm so I fixed those bits. [6/26/19]
> 
> CC Edit:: Again, the map is courtesy of coolblueray's talented mind!


	4. Community.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woody meets some of No Name's residents around the campfire.

**Chapter 3. Community.**

* * *

Saturday rolled by too slow for Woody’s taste. When he refused any sort of medical attention, Jessie stuck him with a lot of household chores that felt like he was being coddled with. In a stubborn attempt to be useful, he checked the pipes of the old farmhouse and ended up adjusting a couple of them. He then went up to the attic to reorganize and clean, leaving him with more time than he knew what to do with. Bored, he went out for a walk. He ran into Sketch gathering logs by himself and helped carry them. When they made it back to the house, Chuck was digging a hole in front of it, and Woody could see a familiar car by the ranch’s entrance, as well as Jessie’s fidgety shape.

“So, he came to fix the truck early, huh?” he asked Sketch, who turned to look at what he was talking about and laughed a bit.

“Ah, no, Jessie called him earlier today- as well as some other people. He’s not gonna be able to make it tonight. Has too much work to do or something like that, but he did agree to bring by some stuff from the store. I think he just wanted to see Jessie, to be honest.”

As though realizing they were being watched, both Jessie and Buzz looked their way and Woody and Sketch pretended to have been looking at something else entirely. Chuck grunted, curling his lips in that weird amused gesture.

“What’s all this for, anyway?” Woody asked as he and Sketch put the logs in the hole Chuck had made, “Are we having a campfire or something?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Sketch seemed genuinely surprised, and then a bit mortified “Aw, shucks, don’t tell me it was a surprise or something...”

“It’s a campfire, alright.” Chuck said, his tone making Woody suspect he was just about to say it was for roasting outsiders, “We do them every now and then, but I think this one’s gonna be for you.”

“For me?”

“A welcome.”

How on earth Chuck managed to make something that was supposed to be good sound threatening, Woody would never know, but he said nothing, feeling an almost painful but warm leap in his stomach. He helped Sketch arrange the logs and then pick up more from the thicket behind the barns until they estimated they had enough to keep the fire alive a good while. Jessie demanded he did something less straining after that, so he went to the kitchen, hoping to get started on dinner, only to find the wooden table full of bags of chips, pretzels, cans of beer and soda bottles.

“Are we expecting someone else?” he asked Burt, who was currently the only one in the living room, watching the news.

“Just a couple of friends Jessie wants to introduce to you, nothing too big.” Burt said, without taking eyes off the screen.

“How much food should I prepare, then?”

“What-?” that made Burt turn to look at him, almost alarmed “Oh. No, man, don’t worry about that. Why don’t you go take a shower? It’s gonna be a real challenge getting in there in just a while, after the rest of the ranch decide they want in too.”

Woody took the advice, changed into a fresh set of clothes and laid on his made bed for a while. Despite his stubbornness, the truth was his body _did_ resent the events from the previous day and it was starting to get stiff with exertion. The rope marks on his arms were surrounded with angry purple bruises that made even things like resting in the wrong position painful. Still, laying there, just watching the warm light of the afternoon turn into purples and then darken into the night was relaxing. He let his mind wander, surprised to find himself nervous and excited about this event they were seemingly having for him- this welcome party of sorts. How many friends did ‘A couple’ stand for? Were they nice or were they like Potemkin? He entertained the thought of one of them being the woman with the sharp smile for a moment, but quickly forced himself to think of something else on the account that the idea made him so nervous that he wasn’t sure what he’d even _do_ were it to be the case. After a while, Jessie came to look for him, looking squeaky clean and fancier than she’d looked in all the days he’d been there, her trademark braided hair contrasting the image. She grimaced at the sight of his arms slightly.

“Doesn’t hurt, honest.” Woody said immediately, sitting up with a slight groan to roll his sleeves down. His back was still stiff “Is it time?”

“Yeah, guests are here. Ya ready?”

“Sure” he got to his feet and stretched, hoping it wasn’t too evident that he wasn’t being sincere. He placed his hat on and offered her his arm in mock gallantry “Shall we?”

Jessie laughed and lightly pushed him towards the stairs.

“Get outta here, weirdo.”

* * *

The night air was cool without quite managing to be cold, and there were some mosquitoes here and there, but Woody found the sight of the people gathered near the fire inviting nevertheless, even if he did see Potemkin and Missus among them. Rocky spotted him and Jessie, let out something like a wolf scream, and raced for the ice box next to the haystack acting as a snack table. He pulled out a can of beer, and ran right toward them immediately after. Woody wondered, once more, why this guy wasn’t playing professional football somewhere. Just seeing Rocky lunge towards him made him want to bail.

“ _Cowboy!_ ” he yelled -Woody wanted to protest the nickname on the account that they all technically were cowboys, but he had a feeling it was going to stick with him. Considering he’d known a rookie back in the day fondly regarded to as ‘ _Squidward_ ’ on account of his unfortunate nose, Cowboy wasn’t that bad. “We got drinks and snacks and some company, enjoy!” Rocky opened the beer and handed it to him before offering Jessie another, “Now you’re officially one of us- right, boss?”

“Darn right.” Jessie elbowed him softly, grinning “If you want to, that is.”

Woody laughed nervously, trying not to sound as choked up with emotion as he felt. He knew a lot of places did this at the drop of a hat and didn’t mean it one bit, but something about the effusiveness and eagerness in the people of Cowden ranch made him feel different. It made it feel real. Jessie introduced him to the guests and while Woody doubted he’d remember all the names when the night was done, he found them lively and nice. Even if half of them were already referring to him as ‘Cowboy’, no doubt Rocky’s doing. _Cowboy, then_ , Woody thought, resigned but not exactly sad.

At some point, Jessie stopped next to Burt and a woman with hair that was styled away from her shoulders, of a vibrant purple color. Her heart-shaped face and long nose made her look aristocratic and elegant, but her smile and the amused gesture of her face made her approachable.

“This is Dorothy.”

“Doctor Proctor, if you prefer that.” she said, shaking Woody’s hand “The kids in town have a blast with that one.”

“Woody Pride.” he said “Woody’s fine.”

“Dolly’s fine, then.”

“She’s the town’s doctor.” Jessie explained.

“One of them.” she corrected “There’s an entire clinic, you know.”

“Alright, OK, the town doctor that doesn’t scare the heck outta me.” Jessie said with a slight shrug and muttered closer to Woody’s ear “She also does stuff with crystals and herbs, if you’re interested.”

“I’m sure it’s great but I don’t know that a crystal can mend a broken bone” Woody asked in the same hushed tone despite the fact that Dolly was right there and listening to them.

“Y’never know...”

  
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you” Dolly said with a complicit glance at Burt “Apparently you have a gift for herding”

“It was _amazing_!” Jessie piped in “You shoulda seen it!”

“Ah- no it’s just” Woody said, averting his eyes for a bit. He knew what town gossip was like and had a crawling suspicion that maybe now people were saying he’d willed the cows to obey ala Cesar Millán or something “Uh, you know, I’ve been working at farms for years know. You learn a thing or two.”

“Hm” she seemed amused by this, exchanging a glance with Jessie “Well, you know, some gifts you’re born with. Nothing wrong with that.” he didn’t get the meaning of that last part, but Jessie was already dragging him to another person, seeming too excited to show him around the way. Like a little kid would have done for an older sibling- it was touching, if odd. The next person was a tall, thin man who, upon closer inspection, he realized he knew from his first night in town, with RC. The man smiled in recognition.

“Woody Pride, this is Slinky.” Jessie was saying, catching herself one moment too late “Er, Lincoln. Lincoln Sanderson.”

“Slink is fine, kiddo.” he said with a dismissive gesture before offering Woody his hand. “How do you do, pal? Been run over by anyone else lately?”

Woody let out a self-conscious laugh, eyeing Jessie, who seemed disconcerted.

“Nah, it’s- you know how it is. Busy week.”

Slink laughed, as Jessie looked at the both of them alternatively.

“I don’t- _ran over_?” she whispered to him.

“Ah, yeah, it’s a long story.”

“We do love stories around here” Slink said “Best way to get a drink on the house at my diner is telling a good one- second best is beating me at checkers.”

“Heeeey.” Woody said, grinning. He was liking this guy better with every passing second “Y’know I’ve always been pretty good at checkers, maybe I can try for that drink on the house next time I’m in town.”

“Sounds good, cowboy. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, there’s Barbie,” Jessie dragged him away the same as before “Come on!”

“Nice meeting you.” Woody managed as he was being taken away.

“Likewise.” Slink said, chuckling good-naturedly. On first glance, Woody thought this Barbie person was the woman with the sharp smile, but the impression passed before his body could seize up in nervousness. This woman was taller, her hair was a slightly different shade of blonde and longer. Although her smile was charming, it lacked that edge that had captivated him so. Still it was a beguiling gesture and he smiled back at her in reflex.

“Howdy.” he said, tipping his hat at her.

“Hi.” she said, her voice a sing-song tone that made Woody wonder if she was making fun of him.

“This is Woody Pride.” Jessie said, motioning for him and then the woman “Woody, this is Barbie Handler. Remember that boutique you saw in town? She’s the owner.”

“That’s pretty impressive!” he said, and he meant it “You look so young!”

She bowed a bit at the compliment, dimples forming around her smile as it widened in delight.

“Oh, it’s nothing! I come from a long line of fashionistas, is all.”

“Like hell it’s nothin’- this woman can make the perfect dress for anyone.” Jessie said “Or a suit, if you’re into that.”

“I already know what would look good on you.” Barbie nodded in a mock-conceited tone that made Woody squirm nonetheless.

“Not a fan of suits, I’m afraid, but if I ever do need one, I know where to go.”

“And don’t forget it.” she winked at him, laughing.

“Hey, Jessie, who else is coming?” Sketch asked, approaching with a snack plate to offer to them.

“I think this is everyone.” Jessie seemed the slightest bit disheartened “Y’know how it is, Buzz got called up to Royal Mauve and Bo couldn’t leave the farm tonight- somethin’ about inventory. Can’t be easy to take care of by oneself, but...” she shrugged “You know how Bo is about lettin’ people into the farm.”

“Paranoid?” Woody said, cocking an eyebrow at her bemusedly. Jessie laughed listlessly, making clear she wasn’t ready to make jokes out of that just yet.

“Sort of- there may be good reason for it, though.”

“Oh, true.” Barbie intervened “Poor Bo had a cast removed just last month.” she pointed at her wrist to illustrate her meaning “Wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, not even Dolly, and she was treating the fracture.”

“Wait- so.” Woody looked over at what little could be seen of the farm from where they stood, “This- this person takes care of the farm all alone _and_ with an injured wrist.”

“Yyyeah, Bo’s kind of a powerhouse.” Jessie said.

“No- but- you don’t get it, a farm that size, with just one working arm, it’s-.”

“Well, we’ve been dropping by the farm every now and then to help because of that, Rock and I.” Sketch cut him, Woody’s attempt to explain how _impossible_ that was- going unnoticed. “Y’know, just to make sure that mending wrist ain’t getting over-worked… and to keep an eye on things. Honestly, that kinda fracture… my cousin got into a fight once and got his wrist twisted until it broke- the fracture Bo had was just like that.”

Woody nodded. Yeah, Danish giants and fights sounded like concepts that were often together. But still, even a guy like that would need help with a farm that big. It just didn’t make any sense- there was something he was missing, he was sure. He didn’t have time to think about it much, though. Barbie switched to asking him about his arrival No Name- she wasn’t from town either and related to much of what Woody told her, including the fact that people didn’t seem to be sure of where No Name was and the general wariness they expressed at so much as passing through it. Woody complied, telling her and Jessie about it as Sketch went to Rocky for a beer and hurried back. Before Woody knew it, he had an audience, conversation still going on around him but in softer tones- not that he minded. Part of him enjoyed the feeling. Even old Potemkim and Missus had approached to listen.

“-and before I knew it, the sun had set on me and I was nowhere near town.”

There was a chorus of hisses.

“Oof, man.” someone said.

“So there I was, in the middle of the road, in complete darkness, and I decided to sit down and rest for a bit.”

“Bad call.” Burt said almost ceremoniously.

“So- what happened?” Jessie pressed, seeming _way_ into it- for it just being a road story. She’d grabbed a chair sometime ago and was sitting backwards on it, with her arms resting on the back, leaned forward to hear better.

“Well, I was there and- uh, I heard a noise near me. Like… you know that rustling sound of someone walking in the grass… and I thought I saw...” he trailed off, realizing the conversation around him had died out almost entirely, save for some whispers. He looked around to every eye set on him and was suddenly very self-conscious. He cleared his throat “It was probably a raccoon, you know. Or a squirrel.”

“What did you see?” Dolly asked calmly. He scratched the back of his head.

“It was eyes- or something that looked like them. Uh, y’know how a cat’s eyes look in the dark? Something like that- but really high up. Taller than any animal I’ve seen.” he paused among mutters and nervous shifting and then laughed a bit “Sorry, this is why I’m telling you it was a raccoon. Anyway, I was-.”

“Scared?” a pink-skinned, fat man who Jessie had introduced as Wilbur ‘Hamm’ Hamilton before said. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it was knowing in a way that made Woody a bit annoyed.

“ _Startled_.” he said “I got startled and I fell onto the road, right in front of a truck. That’s how I met RC.”

“Oh, god, RC.” Barbie held the bridge of her nose “That man would be much more fit driving a race car than that truck. Always running.”

“I’m surprised you’re not a splat mark on the road if he was on the wheel.” Rocky nodded. There were laughs. The mood shifted back to its earlier calm.

“He did buy me dinner that night, so there’s that.” Woody said with a shrug. Barbie shook her head with a half-smile “And took me in for the night. I would have had to sleep at the bus station otherwise- or the trailer park. You know, the one before the town.” he didn’t fail to notice how the mention of the trailer park made his audience shift and mutter nervously again, so he added “The trucker did tell me it was a shady place, though. That the crowd there is… eerie.”

“Eerie’s an understatement.” Potemkim said, talking to him for the first time in the night, before taking the last sip out of her beer and crushing the can. Dolly was shaking her head.

“You _do_ know I work with them, don’t you? They’re nice. Just a bit mysterious.”

“No, mysterious would be if they like... wore trench-coats and hats.” Sketch said “They’re _creepy_. You know what Hannah Phillips said to me the other day while I babysat her and her brother? She said one of them has a _beak_.”

“Get outta here!” Hamm groaned, and the conversations began to break up in groups once again.

“Creepy isn’t always a bad thing.” Dolly said silkily.

“Hey, now that the cowboy set the mood, maybe we should tell scary stories!” Burt said. A posh-looking fellow with wild hair that Jessie had introduced as Prickly immediately leapt at the comment, clapping his hands.

“Excellent idea! I, for one, have a classic-.”

“Woah, woah, not again.” Potemkim cut in “Last time you tried to convince us iguanas are scary.”

“They _are._ ”

“Alright, move over, I got one.” Jessie said, bouncing over her seat in excitement “And this one’s real. I know ‘cause it happened to me.”

“ _Oooh_.” Dolly and Burt said in unison in feign shock. Rocky and Sketch took a seat near them. Barbie and Woody took seats that turned the group into a half-moon near the fire, like a real campfire.

“Y’know how the park didn’t use to close at night some years ago?” Jessie started, her tone playful and mysterious “The Mayor said they started doin’ it ‘cause of vandalism and ‘cause kids from the high-school keep sneaking in to smoke and drink and fool ‘round. ‘ _People just don’t respect their cities anymore_ ’ and all that, but- here’s the thing. When kids wanna get into someplace, fences don’t stop’em. Not even tall gates. How do I know this? I was a kid that climbed that fence easily” she shifted over her seat as Sketch and Rocky looked at her in awe, as though doubting she’d ever do something like that.

“You never told us.” Burt said in mock hurt.

“I was sixteen, guys.” she turned a bit pink “And it was sort of an emergency. Sort of. I’d been there earlier with a book, fell asleep and then hurried off when I noticed the time.”

“You forgot the book.” Dolly guessed.

“And it was grandma’s.” she made a face “There would have been fat trouble if she’d noticed I’d left it there. I only noticed I didn’t have it with me at night, before going to bed, so… I decided to wait until all the lights were out to go get it- only, my bike was under lock by then. We had an old horse back then, good old Gunpowder. I sneaked’im out and rode’im to town.” Woody thought back to his first night and shivered at the sole thought of having been in that situation as a teen, thinking maybe Jessie was about to tell them about something similar to what he had seen.

“Figured I’d just ride as fast as I could, jump the fence, get my book and get back home as soon as I could. Didn’t even consider maybe someone could have taken it. I guess I just tossed all my luck into the possibility that no one had seen it, huh? Anyway, it was so quiet up there at night! I’d figured maybe I’d have to hide from some late-nighters or somethin’, maybe even a police car. But it was so quiet the horse’s hooves sounded like thunder, y’know?”

“Not many late-nighters in No Name.” Barbie nodded with a resigned sigh “I would know. If there is one thing I do furiously miss about my old town, it’s the night-life. It’s a tourist attraction, y’know, so we gotta have it.”

“More like ‘tourist trap’.” Dolly muttered.

“Folks here go to sleep with the sun in most cases.” Rocky said “We’re working people.”

“What happened next?” Woody asked Jessie, relieved that she wasn’t talking about scary eyes in the dark.

“Well, I stood on Gunpowder’s back and jumped the fence as quietly as I could. I went to find the place where I’d been readin’ earlier and- thankfully it was still there. A bit damp with dew, but that was all. But- just as I was takin’ it, I heard it” she paused, eyeing them one by one “It was a voice.”

“Oh, boy.” Sketch said, rolling his eyes a bit.

“Honest! A voice, singin’ somewhere near the pond.”

“What was it like?” Barbie asked.

“Well… nice. Pretty good actually. For a moment there I thought it was a record like the ones Mike plays for the high-school proms in the slow-dancin’ part.”

“A bum with a good voice.” Burt sentenced, “Real scary, Jessie.”

“No, guys, you don’t get it-” her gaze was intense “I went to check what it was, thinkin’ maybe someone had maybe… left a radio on or somethin’. Followed the sound all the way to the open-air stage- y’know the one where we have the summer dance and all that?” they all nodded and Woody shrugged a bit. He’d seen that kind of structure in other places so he had a pretty good idea of what she meant “Well, when I got there… I saw a man all dressed up- in a penguin suit.”

“A frac.” Barbie corrected softly.

“Yeah, like the old orchestra directors in films- he was just standin’ on the stage, swayin’ a bit, like dancin’- and when I looked at’im- I mean, really gave’im a good look, I noticed that he was _floatin’_. He had no feet- only a blur where his feet should be.”

Woody gulped.

“Next thing I know I’m climbin’ off Gunpowder’s back and we’re both shiverin’ and sweatin’ like a sinner in church.” Jessie continued. The ominous note in her voice was more prominent now and Woody couldn’t less than admire such a gift at story-telling. She was actually making him nervous. “I hugged him until both of us were calm enough to sleep and went back into my room.”

A silence followed the end of her story, until Sketch let out a small huff and leaned back on his seat.

“Some story boss.”

“Who’s next?” Jessie piped, excited. Woody half-wished they could switch topics. He’d never really believed in ghosts or any of those things but there, in the middle of nowhere, in the dark… yeah, he was uneasy. Despite the fact that the story was obviously fake, the kind you make up on the spot for a campfire to spook the rest.

“I have one.” Rocky said after a moment. He didn’t look half as excited as Jessie had seemed at telling hers, so Woody already took it more seriously, “Can we get snacks first, though? Since we’re doing the whole ‘Campfire’ thing.”

“Sure can!” Jessie said as she got to her feet to go with him. Sketch and Woody followed to dispose of the empty cans and get fresh drinks for everyone who needed them. When they got back, Chuck had joined the conversation… in his way. By sitting moderately close to them and grunting in response every now and then.

“Ya got a story to tell too?” Woody said, unable to sound as casual as he would have liked, much to his amusement.

“Perhaps.”

“Take it away, Rocky!” Jessie returned to her seat, feet shuffling in excitement “What did ya see?”

“I’m not sure” he opened one of the marshmallow bags and began passing it around, pensive “I… you know, it’s actually nothing as impressive as what you told.”

“Doesn’t matter! We’re having fun, right?”

“OK, so, remember when we did that firework festival? The one on the fields in front of the Museum?”

 _Sure, yeah, uh-huh._ Woody shrugged.

“Was it the fourth of July or something?”

“Nah.” Jessie explained with a small laugh “It was some sort of Town anniversary. 30 years since the church got built or somethin’, I don’t remember.”

“Anniversary my _tail_.” Burt said, making Woody fleetingly wonder _what tail_ before realizing it was probably a local expression… a rather bizarre one “The real anniversary wasn’t coming for another week and something- except broadcasts were saying storms were gonna be hitting us for a week straight. So they settled the day for the Mayor’s birthday and then the storms moved away as though by magic.” he smiled with a knowing air “Curious how these things work out, eh?”

“So, you were there that day, Rock-o?” Sketch asked.

“Yeah. My sisters all wanted to go, so mom complied. We were on a picnic blanket with sodas and hot-dogs and I’d brought my math homework-.”

“Nerd.” Dolly sentenced fondly.

“I wanted to get it done before the fireworks started so I could enjoy them without worrying about it.” Rocky said, a bit self-consciously “Anyway- I didn’t really manage to, because the lighting was so bad. I was still trying to work those numbers when the fireworks went off. Here I am, one eye on the sky and the other on my notebook, just trying to keep track of all of it. When I noticed something.” he paused as he was handed the marshmallow bag back, picking one marshmallow “You know how fireworks- how you can see them going up, like a trail of light? It was something like that, but- it was going downwards. I thought maybe one of the fireworks hadn’t gone off right or something like that, but… it took me a moment to notice it wasn’t really in the field in front of us.” he pointed at the starry expanse over the desert “It was further away, maybe even past the train tunnel. Falling in a diagonal line” he drew the line with the marshmallow in the air “Until it hit the ground somewhere in the desert. There was a flash, like someone had shone a light my way- and then nothing.” he popped the marshmallow into his mouth, seemingly done with the story. His audience remained in a stunned silence for a moment.

“Woah.” Chuck said, sort of flatly.

“Didn’t anyone else see it?” Woody asked. He wasn’t sure how that story made him feel, but the fact that it happened so close to where he currently was sure made him uneasy.

“Nope. At least, I don’t think so. I asked my mom and my sisters but neither of them had noticed. I waited for days, trying to catch anyone talking about it in class or- anywhere. Nothing. Not even, like, news that a meteor shower had happened that night. To this day, I don’t know what that was, but it freaks me out to think about it. Makes me kind of scared to look at the sky some days...” he eyed the marshmallow bag gingerly “Hey, maybe we should get sticks and roast these. Haven’t done that in a dog’s age.”

“Sounds good! We can probably use some of the branches Woody and I got, c’mon.” Sketch said, clapping on his back. As they went to do that, Woody realized that soon it’d be too late and too cold for soda and asked everyone how hot chocolate sounded. At the general agreement, he entered the house to prepare some, followed by Dolly.

“So, um, these are some good campfire stories, huh?” Woody said as he put the kettle on. Jessie only had cocoa, and while it didn’t compare to actual hot chocolate, he was confident that he could make it work.

“Hm.” Dolly said for all agreement as she counted the snack bags still left untouched. Woody had a feeling they’d be eating those for the next couple of weeks.

“I like that they’re not over-doing it.” he continued as he began mixing the cocoa, sugar and salt “When I used to go camping as a kid, they’d always over-do it. Claim a killer was still on the loose and jump out of a bush or stuff like that. Try way too hard to convince us it was real.”

She was giving him a _look_ he wasn’t sure he liked. As though she were inwardly laughing at him.

“Well, you know what they say” she told him “The best stories are the ones that sound like they might just be _real_.”

Woody racked his mind for a reason why it felt like she’d meant more than she’d said, but Rocky and Sketch showed up with the sticks for a quick wash and the subject didn’t come up again after they left. Anyway, what second meaning _could_ she have had? Jessie had obviously not seen a ghost, not for real, and whatever Rocky had seen obviously had an explanation he just hadn’t thought of. Or they were just straight-up making it up, like Chuck had obviously done with his cerberus story. It was good fun, but nothing more. Campfire stories. Where the creatures in them were just as graspable as the smoke.

As soon as the cocoa was ready, they began pouring it for the rest, noticing through the kitchen window that most of the guests were either leaving or gone, only a small group left gathered around the fire. Barbie and Slink had joined in, it seemed. Jessie peeked into the kitchen, carrying blankets.

“You almost done here?”

“Yeah. Uh, anyone staying over?” Woody asked.

“Nah- actually, Rocky and Sketch are gonna go back to town with Dolly. Chuck too, it’s been a while since he’s visited his grandkid.” at Woody’s slack-jawed expression, she laughed “Oh, what? Just ‘cause he gives you the heebie-jeebies he can’t be a grandpa? I’ll have you know Bonnie’s the cutest little thing and she adores him.”

“I mean- good for him, but, uh, the blankets are just for now, then?”

“Yup. We still got some stories to go.”

Woody kept himself from groaning. Just barely.

* * *

They brought the cocoa and blankets out for the rest just as, it seemed, Sketch was finishing up on a story which Woody could tell he wouldn’t have enjoyed much anyway. Something about having been in a camping trip as a kid and having encountered something big and scary in the bushes when he went out for a leak in the dead of night.

“My hands were shaking so much that I couldn’t really aim at it with the flashlight.” Sketch said. To his credit, he wasn’t laughing and his eyes were dead serious on his audience as he spoke “All I could see were bright yellow eyes and reddish skin, and after that I dropped it, even though I couldn’t see it anymore. I thought I could feel it coming closer to me, so I booked it. Ran to my parents’ tent and wouldn’t leave it until the sun was up. My dad looked around, thinking maybe it was a bear or something and gotten too scared to _really_ see it- but he didn’t find anything, so he said I’d dreamed it.” he rubbed his arm “I haven’t been to those woods since. Closest I get is Bo’s farm and never further.” he shivered just as Jessie placed a blanket on him “Thanks… I know it sounds crazy, and I know a lot of you are gonna say the same thing as my dad, but I _swear_ I saw it. It was red and had yellow eyes and was huge. I’ve never even _heard_ of anything like it before or after.”

“Maybe you did dream it”. Burt offered.

“No. I could even _smell_ it. It was like… burning trash and a dirty fish tank. I couldn’t have made that up if I tried.” he breathed out. Woody was inclined to believe he’d seen something, if only because he’d gotten pale just talking about it.

“You know,” Chuck said softly “the camping grounds aren’t that far from the Golden Patina River...some think those lands are filled with gold. Back in the late 1800’s, people said you could see the gold in the water from yards away- hence the name.”

“But there wasn’t any gold, was it?” Dolly said “No mining industry here.”

“Well, they tried… but of course, as Stinky Pete will tell you, sometimes gold just hides. And then there’s the legends, of course. The most common one is that every treasure that hides under the earth belongs to the devil and so he often makes rounds to guard them.”

“You’d think the devil has better stuff to do.” Barbie dropped bemusedly.

“Ain’t that the truth? Still, _something_ scared people away from the surroundings of the river.” Chuck insisted “It’s all in the town records. One day they just picked up their stuff and headed back to wherever they’d come from. What little constructions already stood there are covered by the woods now, if they still stand. These days, only Pete wanders the place, and he has many a story to tell about it.”

“Yeah- no, I think Pete’s brain has left the building.” Slink said with a chuckle “Old coot insists he sees the gold swim _up_ the river and hide in the depths when he approaches. He’d do better going back to wherever he’s from before he hurts himself.”

“Wait- rewind.” Woody cut in. All eyes turned to him “You’re telling me you think what Sketch saw was _the devil_?”

Chuck leaned back in his seat, sizing him up.

“Like I said, it’s a legend. One of many. Even before pilgrim settlers came around here, the natives had their own creepy stories about the area. Something about an underground cave where you could hear voices, and even about weird lights near Deep End. Not even they stayed around here if they could help it. It’s just...something to think about, I guess.”

The stories stopped for a bit after that, with everyone simply eating snacks and making light conversation that died down as quickly as it had started. Woody was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who’d ended up getting nervous, who needed to talk about something else in order to make the stories feel like what they were- just stories.

“ _Ahem_.” looking to the left of him, Barbie had gained the rest of the group’s attention. Her face was almost severe in it’s seriousness “If we’re not done with the campfire stories yet, I have one I’d like to share.”

Woody eyed around, finding eager eyes and even a couple of smiles among the faces gathered there. Oh, boy, so much for a mood shift.

“What’cha got, Barbie?” Jessie asked, bouncing a bit in her seat.

“You all know about the infamous trailer park.” she eyed Woody, who, after all, was the only new one in town “It’s up north of town and the Vale.”

“The Vale?” Woody whispered at Jessie, who was nearest.

“Midnight Vale. The Cemetery.”

“Oh.” he wasn’t loving the sound of this.

“Get real, Barbie. We know you wouldn’t set foot there if an Armani pair of shoes depended on it.” Burt said.

“Not on the Trailer Park, yes, but here’s the thing. One night, after I had closed up, I headed for the Vale.” Barbie continued “I had made plans to go and visit my great aunt Ruth’s resting place on her birthday.”

“At night.” Dolly said, raising both eyebrows.

“Well, I’d planned to do it at lunch time but- oh, I got carried away working on something, I think? The point is I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to miss the date. She was one of the only family members besides me who left Royal Mauve to live here.”

“Bet your family loved that.” Slink said.

“About as much as they loved it when I did.” she laughed “That’s not even all of it; she was an amazing woman for her time, and married a lovely man here. I loved her dearly and always paid respects to her.”

She paused with a warm, reminiscent smile, and took a sip of hot cocoa. Woody felt himself relax a bit- surely no story that started like that could be so bad. But then, he noticed Barbie’s hands were trembling around the cup.

“So, that night I was walking up the main hill, with a bouquet of lilies… and heard creaking from the main gate. I was far enough that I wasn’t seen, but I saw a group of people I didn’t recognize walk in, just- parading through the trees of the cemetery. I could only see some of them clearly. One was in a wheelchair...there was this couple, a man and a woman and...both of them had thick white bandages around their neck. I remember being able to see where they were thanks to that- and I think there were kids with them, I could hear them laughing. Also this one fellow I recognized from the clinic- I don’t know his name, he always has a scarf covering most of his face.”

“Dougie.” Dolly said “He’s in the ER.”

“What in tarnation were they doing there?” Jessie asked, looking less excited and more concerned.

“I don’t know.” Barbie’s expression was grave “All of the Vale's graves are No Name Town residence only, so there was no real reason for them to be in there. They were carrying shovels and one of them was pushing a wheelbarrow. I had no idea what they were doing there, or why they brought equipment like that to a cemetery.” she said, shivering a bit at the thought. “I just knew that people had talked about them being some kind of…” she trailed off, as though the word itself made her sick. Chuck, however, wasn’t very squirmy about it.

“Cannibals.” he said, drinking the last of his beer, opening another one. He’d been one of the few to decline the cocoa, along with Jessie.

“What?” Woody asked, not sure he heard that right. This sounded like something out of a bad horror movie. _Cannibals? Here in No Name?_

“That’s what people say, that they work on the hospital in order to know first hand when someone dies… so they can eat them while they’re fresh.”

Woody gulped.

“W-what happened then, Barbie?” Jessie asked. Barbie had gone green at Chuck’s description, but she continued, slowly.

“I don’t know. I got scared and decided my aunt wouldn’t mind if I dropped by the next day, in broad daylight.” she breathed deeply “So I left before they could see me. But, uh, there’s more. I didn’t know- I hadn’t heard that thing Chuck just told us. Just… rumors. I don’t remember if someone had recently died that day, but…” she breathed deeply again “Some days later I heard that sometimes people will drop by the graves of their family and find them… different. Fresh flowers, weeds gone- which sounds good at first, right? Until they notice… every time, the earth of the grave is loose. As if someone had dug into it recently.”

The group went quiet enough that only the fire could be heard, crackling. Then the silence was broken by the sound of plastic ripping- they all turned to Dolly, who was just opening a fresh bag of marshmallows.

“Who’s turn is it now?” she asked, looking around. Whatever she saw must have amused her, because she grinned “Can I go next, then?”

There was a murmur of approval. Dolly thought for a moment, no doubt searching through her memories for a good story. Woody, at this point, honestly felt wiped out and was ready to curl up under the blankets. The stories told around the campfire tonight hardly held a candle to what he heard in past towns. He would dare say that his story was the best there given everyone's reaction. He doubted whatever Dolly threw at them could top it.

Suddenly she grinned, dimples formed at the corner of her smile, Woody couldn’t help but notice her eyes twinkle with something… nah, probably the campfire making them sparkle that way. Popping a marshmallow in her mouth, he had no doubt that she would spin a tale of creatures that weren’t easy to describe, using terrible descriptions of what she thought she saw, some years ago on a late night out by herself. Or so the story went.

As she chewed, her cheek slightly puffed out, she began.

“I have a question for all of you. Now- you know that train- the one that passes through here every night. It’s station almost always empty, hardly a single person ever stepping off the thing.”

“That’s only ‘cause no one has any business stoppin’ in our town. We’re practically invisible.” Jessie said with a snort, sipping her beer can lightly.

“Yeah it’s kind of a stupid place to build a train station, when you think about it. There's hardly anyone who would use it.” Rocky commented, squishing a marshmallow and a piece of chocolate between graham crackers before placing it in his mouth “With the distance between each town it would take at least an hour or two to reach us and we don’t have anything substantial worth checking out.”

“Even so, don’t you think it’s rather odd that only one or two people a year would stop here? Do any of you even know where that train heads to once it’s passed through those mountains?” She pointed out toward the distance. Everyone began to mutter ‘ _No_ ’ and ‘ _No idea_ ’ and ‘ _Not really_ ’. Woody looked at them all with a raised eyebrow. Most of them seemed to have lived in No Name at least for a few years now -some even born there- and none of them knew something as simple as that?

“Must just be some- cargo train.” Woody suggested. A dozen eyes turned to him, and he felt himself squirm slightly in his seat, fiddling with his marshmallow on a stick. He quickly stuck it in his mouth and chewed. Chuck cleared his throat, letting him know how clearly ignorant he was to the ways of their town, as if such a suggestion was ridiculous. It was enough to make him spit out in an irritated tone “Not all trains carry people you know- it wouldn’t make sense business wise.”

“Oh, it’s no cargo train, Woody” Dolly explained “That train carries nothing but people, I’ve heard things as it passes by. There’s laughing, talking, and people running around on that thing. Yet it hardly moves more than a brisk walking pace. As if those passengers have nothing better to do.” Dolly leaned her back to the chair. Woody noticed her playful smile flatter just ever so slightly “I met- a woman, young lady by the name of Anna Hennings from the town over. She was here to take the train you see- Was going out to see her girlfriend Sarah Rowe. She was excited, as she had moved out here to work in-between college years. This would be the first time Anna would see Sarah again in a school year.” she began to play with the bracelet on her left wrist, using her fingers to turn a pink gem between them on it’s woven string. _An unconscious habit_ , Woody observed, unable to pinpoint if it was from uneasiness to share the tale or concentrated thoughtfulness. “She had called me about an herbal medicine commission and we agreed to meet at my home. I then escorted her to the train station, but warned her that it was always “closed for repairs”, and chances are the bus would take her where she needed to go- except once we arrived, the place looked lit up and as welcoming as your grandmother’s house. I even saw employees there. None that I recognized; working, cleaning and chatting as if they had been there for years.”

Woody noticed the others grow quiet, and staring right at Dolly now, as if hypnotized. They seemed shocked to hear of the train station actually working like normal, with people operating it. Woody was just surprised that Dolly didn't know any of the employees, as this was a pretty isolated town and as far as he saw, everyone knew everyone. You couldn’t easily work in another town around here without at least a couple of hour’s drive.

“She quickly bought a ticket and thanked me for helping her this far. Even gave me a little bracelet she had crafted, a “good luck” charm. I felt uneasy but I left her, I had to pull an all night shift at the hospital that day.” Dolly paused, pursing her lips gently. “That night, after work, when it was just about midnight, I saw it. That train, moving fast, faster than I had ever seen it go before. It sounded like it was howling, like it was alive. It’s whistle screaming over and over again until it disappeared beyond those mountains.” she turned her head up to where the moon was, “A few months later, I saw Anna again, stepping off the train, when I was passing through to go to town for work. I said hello, and asked how everything went for her summer break when she went to visit the Rowe home. She smiled and said her boyfriend was doing well, and walked off into town.”

Dolly went silent, her story done and Chuck spoke. Blunt as a kick on the shin.

“Perhaps you weren’t speaking to Anna anymore.” he said almost nonchalantly yet a hint of graveness to the suggestion, downing the last of his beer. Woody wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that story. There wasn't exactly a scary element to it, yet the way she ended it, implying that something had happened to Anna on the train that night, and returned unlike herself sent a chill down Woody’s spine. But why the implication it was no longer Anna “anymore”? Who else would she be?

Just then they could hear the infamous train, passing through the night as calmly and smoothly as ever and he exchanged a quick glance with Dolly, who wasn’t smiling anymore. He imagined for a moment, the people abroad it, wondering who they were, and where they were heading. It suddenly whistled and nearly everyone jumped at the sound. It was like some kind of warning made specifically at them, for daring to talk about it in the first place. He leaped to his feet at almost the same time Jessie did.

“Ah, well, uh, it’s gotten late...” he started.

“Yeah, it’s uh-.” Rocky nodded, a bit too eagerly.

“We still gotta drive into town, so...” Slink said. Was it Woody’s imagination or did he look as nervous as the rest?

“Yeah, uh, we better...” Dolly said, pointing at the farm’s entrance with her thumb, where her and Slink’s cars, as well as a motorcycle Woody assumed belonged to Barbie were “I gotta drop your boys with their mommas too, so...”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s a good time to end.” Jessie said, her voice squeaky in it’s attempt to sound merry and casual. Barbie didn’t bother with dissimulating. She hurriedly threw a quick ‘Bye’ over her shoulder, already on her way to the bike. Hurriedly, Woody, Burt, Sketch and Rocky took all of the chairs inside and put the trash bags in the cans. Chuck and Slink put out the fire as Jessie carried the cups and leftover edibles back into the house. In less than twenty minutes, Dolly had left with Sketch and Rocky, and Slink had drove off with Chuck, leaving Jessie, Woody and Burt alone in the farmhouse. The suddenly very silent and ominous farmhouse.

“You know, I kind of feel like having a sleepover.” Burt said, his voice just the slightest bit quivery. Woody didn’t even think to make fun of the word choice, relieved as he was that he wasn’t going to sleep in his attic room alone. Jessie seemed to share the sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coolbluerays: This chapter was especially enjoyable to write because we could tell some spooky scary stories around a campfire! And give Woody and the readers a taste of what's going on. All I can say is pay very close attention to what stories get told tonight. 
> 
> Note: There is no new map to show as there is no new location to introduce.
> 
> CC: This part was tons of hard work but also tons of fun, trying to capture that vibe of late nights telling stories in a circle (Which is something both my grandmas loved doing- hence my taste for spooky, I guess) and while it may seem like not much is going on, I wouldn't let myself be lulled into a sense of security if I were you ;).


	5. Smiles All Around.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woody meets new friends and new enemies.

**Chapter 4. Smiles All Around.**

* * *

 

Woody’s sleep was abruptly interrupted by a foot kicking his back and he groggily glared at Jessie, who’d somehow managed to roll next to his sleeping bag and turn upside down in her sleep. She was snoring, her legs were spread, covers everywhere and mouth wide open. Whatever she was dreaming, it must have agitated her, because her foot was thumping on Woody the way a sleeping dog would have. He glimpsed at the window behind the TV next and groaned at the misty, pale light outside, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t go back to sleep. He wasn’t even sure at what time they’d finally managed to fall asleep, all of them too uneasy to really get sleepy but still not awake enough to do anything else but lay in place. 

Burt tried the TV for a while, but the late night television in No Name consisted of adult channels and infomercials, none of which was enjoyable entertainment. Plus, the only one in a good position to watch was Jessie -who had started out on the sofa- and she hadn’t been paying attention. He turned to find Burt snoring with his face to the floor and sighed. So he really was the only one awake, huh? He gently nudged Jessie’s foot off him and got up, stretching, miserably shuffling to the kitchen for some coffee. He’d barely even taken a sip off the stuff when someone knocked on the door. He heard both Burt and Jessie groan, and he tiredly put the cup down and shuffled out.

“I got it, go back to sleep.” he muttered as he walked past the two groggy forms.

“God bless you.” Jessie said almost pitifully and rolled back to sleep with a snore. Woody couldn’t help but smile fondly at that. Jessie always worked so hard that it was nice to see her relaxed. His smile disappeared as soon as he opened the door though.

“Oh. Hi, Buzz.” he said flatly.

“ _Buzz_!?” he heard shuffling and thumping and a very disheveled-looking Jessie made her way to his side- heck, she almost shoved him aside to stand in front of the door- brushing stray hairs behind her ear, somehow able to beam like she had been awake for hours, despite her obvious grogginess “Hi! I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“I said I’d come fix the truck.”

“Yeah, but you were to your dad’s yesterday, I thought you’d be staying the weekend.”

“Ah, no, I just stayed the night.” he explained, a bit sheepishly “I knew I couldn’t let you down with the truck, so...” He scratched behind his ear.

“Oh, Buzz, I wouldn’t have minded.” she assured “But I’m glad you came by. You missed a great party last night!” she all but pulled him inside by the hand “We even told campfire stories!”

Buzz looked at the improvised camp on the living room floor, complete with Burt still sleeping with his face still laying on the floor and seemed to draw conclusions, throwing Woody an amused glance that annoyed him a bit.

“We had a pajama party.” he declared “Just for fun. We weren’t scared.”

“ _Uh-huh._ ”

“Anyway, why don’t you have breakfast with us?” Jessie said from the kitchen “Are you tired? Would’cha like to rest up first?”

“Just a bit.” Buzz admitted as he rolled his left shoulder stiffly, with a grimace “I did have breakfast with father.”

“Energy bars and health shakes, then.” Burt said as he groggily propped himself up on one elbow, finally deciding to join the living again with a long yawn “I say we feed you properly, c’mon.”

However, by the time they were done with breakfast, it had begun to rain heavily. Jessie assured everyone it’d pass soon and had Buzz sit down with them, talking for a bit. Based on what Buzz related about his activities the previous day and the comment Burt had made, Woody drew the conclusion that Buzz’s dad was a strict, highly dominant man with oddly high (and oddly specific) expectations for his son- which sort of explained Buzz’s high and mighty attitude. There was an air to himself, like he could do anything anyone else had tried but end up doing it ten times better without breaking a sweat. Still, it was clear Buzz was, at the very least, very fond of his old man and it sort of grieved him to visit and find the man not satisfied with him for one reason or another. It sounded like a very rough relationship.

They eventually changed into clothes that weren’t meant for sleeping to officially start the day and by then, not only hadn’t the rain let up but it had, in fact, ended up becoming a small storm, with a slight layer of mist and winds that made the windows rattle and the angles of the ceiling howl. Rocky called to let them know he’d been meaning to ask his mom to drive him in later during the day but with the weather the way it was- he didn’t really feel like it was a good idea. Jessie had to agree. While the road going from town to the ranch was relatively easy and there weren’t really any dangerous areas around it, it was better safe than sorry, so she assured him if he had to stay in town for another day, she’d rather he did.

“Buzz came to fix the truck and got trapped in here by the rain too.” she said into the phone, eyeing Buzz amusedly. He shrugged with a slight smile, as though to say it wasn’t a problem- he hadn’t seemed exactly upset to hear that when she’d said it to him a couple of minutes ago… quite the contrary, actually “So we’re not exactly short in hands if anythin’ shows up. Not that there’s much work we can get done with the rain, either. Look, let Chuck and Sketch know I don’t want them tryin’ to get in here through the storm either, ‘k? I’d rather see y’all one day late than never again.”

Rocky thanked her and hung up and she huffed, eyeing her visitor and her remaining staff.

“So… who’s up for some rainy-day activities?” 

She brought out an old puzzle which Woody had every intention of enjoying putting together calmly- except Buzz put it together infuriatingly fast. She then brought out some books- once again, Woody made an attempt to go slow and enjoy his, but Buzz plowed through his in record time- while to be fair, it had been a short novel, maybe less than a hundred-pages long. He then began breathing down Woody’s neck to read over his shoulder, making him squirm and shudder, somehow seemingly going unnoticed. 

Burt watched the scene in amusement, when he could spare to look away from the TV until the signal died out. By then, Woody had given up on reading and handed Buzz the book, and Jessie then suggested they watched a movie before bringing down a small selection. Woody spotted a Clint Eastwood classic and immediately picked it, but almost at the same time, Buzz picked a sci-fi stinker- not even something cool like ‘ _2001\. Space Odyssey_ ’ or _‘Star Wars’_ but something about murderous clowns and space. Jessie begun saying something like “ _Buzz is the guest and his pick had priority so Woody HAS to concede_ ”, and Woody had to agree- he was half-convinced his mom’s chancla would reach him across the states if he didn’t- even if he was all but pouting about it for a good while. All in all, the clown film wasn’t that terrible. It became clear it was _meant_ to be funny, and it really was. It even had a catchy theme song and decent special effects for the time. Woody hadn’t laughed so much in a while and it seemed to him like Jessie and Buzz hadn’t either, with her collapsing into his arm to giggle madly every now and then and the mechanic turning a nice shade of _beet_ everytime she did it, much to Burt and Woody’s amusement. After that, they watched Woody’s pick and, to his credit, Buzz sure knew a classic when it was before him. It was nice. It almost made him forget what an unbearable stuck-up Buzz was. Almost.

“I’m pretty sure I have more of these upstairs.” Jessie said pensively as she took the movie out from the DVD “Grandma isn’t a fan, but I remember her havin’ at least three of’em and I got one myself last year.”

“We could watch another one.” Burt said “The rain isn’t going anywhere for another while.” as if to punctuate his statement, there was a slam of thunder that made the house vibrate.

“Oof” Jessie said, eyeing the windows warily “Might as well, before the energy goes out on us or somethin’ like that”

“I’ll get it.” Woody said getting to his feet. It had been a while since his last cowboy film and he was eager for another “The big bookcase on the attic, right? I think I saw it there.”

“Yeah!”

“You seem to know your way around here already.” Buzz observed, not looking up from the TV guide he lazily flipped through. Something about his tone put Woody on edge and he stopped in his tracks, turning.

“Yeah, I work here. I’ve also cleaned around more than a couple of times. Is that a problem?” he demanded, crossing his arms defensively. _Keep your temper in check, Woody, no need to get worked up, Woody..._

“Not really. I’ve just been thinking this is the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone _adapt_ to this place enough to know where everything is.” the _hell_ was that supposed to mean? “Almost like you’d set out to do just that.” Buzz said, looking up at Woody this time, with a glint in his eye that gave Woody a bad taste in his mouth. 

“I- _what_?”

“He’s saying you’re shady.” Burt said without a hint of restraint, sounding amused. 

“ _Oh_ .” and here Woody had thought the paranoia act was done. _Keep your temper in check, Woody._ Screw that. His temper escalated in a second “Ohh, I see. So now I’m a _spy_? Is that what you’re saying?” 

“I am not _saying_ anything”

“You have to be-! Anything else?” he said, scowling freely, letting his arms flap about emphatically “Did I bug the barn when I fixed it? Or maybe I put a hidden camera in the bathroom after I fixed the faucet?”

Jessie was making frantic hand gestures at him as though begging him to knock it off, but he was way too riled for that. Not only had this out-of-nowhere suspicion of him gotten old fairly quickly, what with Chuck’s attempts to intimidate him and scare him off and even Jessie’s own reluctance to be truthful to him, but Buzz had done nothing but get on his nerves since they’d met and he was finally getting a piece of Woody’s mind for it.

“Mental note: Check the barn and the faucet for electronic devices” Buzz said, half to himself. He seemed completely serious about it too. _Chutes and ladders_ \- wait, he wasn’t actually saying the words out loud.

_Shit._

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation- you-!” he gestured towards Buzz, unable to even word his exasperation properly for a moment. “You were in the _army_! How come you don’t get crap for it? How is that any worse from the fact that I was on the police force?!” he poked his pointer finger into his own chest. Jessie face-palmed. Burt still looked amused.

“He’s calling you a hypocrite.” he said to Buzz in the same matter-of-fact tone he’d used before. Buzz, on his part, looked like his jaw was almost dropping.

“The _police_?!” his voice reached a quiet angry hiss, looked at Jessie with a vague air of betrayal.

“Oh, like you didn’t know.” Woody snapped “At this point probably half the town knows and resent me for it! I don’t even _know_ what all the secrecy is about or why cops are the enemy!”

“Perhaps it’s better that it stays that way.” Buzz said firmly, standing up this time. Woody had seen enough skirmishes to know the stance of someone ready to start one “Perhaps it’s not for the likes of you to know. Ever.” Jessie groaned faintly and any hint of amusement on Burt’s expression faded. Thunder rumbled again over their heads.

“You-!” Woody started, a knot tying in his throat. It really was pointless, wasn’t it? No matter what he said. No matter what he did- they had decided he wasn’t to be trusted. He was the enemy, he was the _outsider_.  He remembered the previous night bitterly. The new friends, the laughter, even the last part that was so scary, but so fun- it had really seemed to him like it was a fresh start in a good place.

 _Stupid_. 

“Argh-! Who cares? I’m done talking to you.” he said, turning his back on Buzz “I’m done with all of this.”

“Woody…” Jessie called weakly after him but he paid no mind. In a flash, he was upstairs and frantically putting his belongings back into his backpack. He thought he could hear arguing downstairs, but his ears were filled with white noise on top of the drumming of rain over his head. Occasional thunder crackled through the sky, making it impossible to think. _Stupid, stupid, stupid-_! He really was just meant for the life of a stray, huh? No matter where he went, his mouth or his temper or his stubbornness or his… _queerness_ , it all just a matter of time before he eventually got kicked out.

Well, no, this time _he_ was walking out. He slid the zipper shut and swung the backpack onto his shoulder, secured his hat, taking one last look at what he’d thought to be his new room and then rushed down the stairs.

Whatever the argument was about, he still couldn’t hear it as he walked out the stairs and to the door- they’d moved it to Jessie’s studio. _Or else I would over-hear. Cautious to the end, huh_? he thought a bit bitterly. He’d hoped to be able to say goodbye to Jessie, at least. Or Sketch and Rocky. What a pity. He took his jacket from the hook next to the door and wrapped himself in it- there was one long walk ahead of him and he’d need all the heat he could get. _Wonder if RC’s mom would take me in again, just for one night_ …

The rain was thicker than he’d initially anticipated and he was glad he’d long since sewn a layer of canvas on the inside of his backpack to keep his stuff from getting wet. Not that the rest of him would have that luck. He gave the ranch one last look, hat dripping, a dull ache in his chest. It was a nice place, really. He would have liked to stay. _Then why leave?_ he thought for a moment, as lightning flashed over his head, followed by almost immediate thunder, _you still got time to turn back_.

And be the guy everyone thinks is shady for no real reason except his past career choices? No thanks. He had his pride. He reached the road and turned towards town, hoping by some sort of miracle someone would have to drive past-

Wait, maybe lady fortune had heard him. He peered through the rain and mist, narrowing his eyes. Was a car coming? Maybe Sketch or Rocky had managed to get a ride after all, or maybe someone really needed Buzz’s services and had heard he’d come to the ranch. However, and despite the fact that he’d been standing there for a while now, they didn’t seem to be coming any closer. Were they emergency lights, then? Oh, no. He looked over at the ranch-house, weighing whether he should go back and let them know- he just had to think about Buzz’s stupid face to discard the idea. Besides… helping people was what he did best. He wrapped himself tighter in his jacket and started toward the main road, his boots splashing in the large, muddy puddles. 

He’d only taken a couple of steps when he heard clopping behind him and turned to find Bullseye trotting behind him. When had he even gotten out of the barn? He wasn’t even wearing a saddle.

“Hey! Get back!” he called, to no avail. Bullseye ran to his side and rammed his head into his chest, as if demanding for pets. “Oof! Hey-.” he felt a sudden, irresistible pang of ache at the thought of leaving the horse behind. He hadn’t even thought of it until then “...hey, I’m sorry. I can’t stay.” and why _not_? “You wouldn’t understand, it’s… no matter what I do people still act like there’s something bad about me. I can’t stand it. It’s better this way- everyone will breathe easier, you’ll see.” Bullseye rammed his head into his chest harder, almost knocking the wind out of him “Ow. Look, I’ve made up my mind, there’s nothing else to say. Now go back inside before you get the sniffles.”

He pushed the animal’s head away and tried to turn, but Bullseye caught his sleeve with his teeth and tugged, making him start back. Just like that, his temper was back. 

“Hey- I’m not the one who has a problem, alright? Everyone else does and I’m _sick_ of it. Now let go!” he remembered what had been in his mind right before the horse intercepted him, a new sense of urgency washing over him “This is not the time- you see that?” he pointed at the lights, “Someone might be in trouble. I gotta go over there.” A foul-smelling lick to the face was what he got for an answer. “Ack! We’ve talked about this! No licking! And get back to the stables before you catch a cold!” he flailed an arm to get Bullseye to back away and go back to the stables. When he began to walk again, he could already hear Bullseye trailing behind him like a dog. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and turned on his heels “Alright, look, if I let you accompany me to the lights, will you get back into the stables before Buzz says I stole you or something?”

Bullseye huffed in affirmation and stepped closer. Ah well, there were worse things in life than a horse willing to stick with you in the rain, Woody supposed. He climbed onto the horse’s back and they rode to where the lights were still blinking, on the side of the road opposite to Cowden Ranch.

It was a car, alright. A light-blue kombi van with tinted windows on the front and no windows whatsoever on the back. Despite the fact that the lights were on and blinking, it looked empty. Dismounting, he confirmed it, finding the door unlocked. Empty and a bit ominous, what with how dark the back was. No back seats, only a dingy mattress and some cans. Maybe a family’s vacation car? Still, the air about it all was cold and uncaring enough that he couldn’t quite make himself believe anyone rode it for pleasure and not necessity. 

Inspecting it closer, it looked strangely lived in, but not worn with any kind of kind of human touch. No dirty clothes and no food packages, just what looked to be a couple of paint cans. He closed the door, careful to leave it unlocked as he’d found it and gave it some thought. Had someone come camping in the woods and forgotten to turn the lights off? But then, why not lock the doors? He knew No Name inhabitants didn’t seem to fear robbery much- except for Potemkim- but the rest of the world locked their doors, as far as he knew. Maybe it had been left unlocked in a hurry? Or maybe… he studied the car’s track marks and saw it was somewhat sloppily parked, with part of the back still on the road. A forced stop? Maybe the driver had problems, or maybe there had been a car malfunction. Funny though, car seemed in perfect condition, minus what looked to be scuffed paint marks on the car’s door handle and the smell of gas lingering in the air, even over the rain. The motor had probably seen better days. Woody looked around for any signs to where the owners could possibly be, but saw nothing. Any footprints that may have been left were now erased by the rain. He toyed with the idea of going back to the ranch once more- just to get help. Or to call someone.

 _Yeah, right_ , he’d suggest they called the cops in a ranch where being a cop was a capital sin, apparently. Hell, things the way they were, Buzz would probably say it was his plan all along or something stupid like that. He rubbed his eyes. What to do? He couldn’t stand there in the rain all afternoon- not only had the storm advanced enough that he could hear thunder, moments after the sky blinked alive with lightning, but the light was dying out. Night would come soon and he and Bullseye were sopping wet. Maybe he could wait in the car until the owner came back and even get a ride out of it… but the thought alone made him uneasy. He didn’t know if someone who’d drive this vehicle around could be trusted. In all honesty, his first thought on it was that it looked like the kind of van Ted Bundy would drive.

_Great, now I’m catching Buzz’s paranoia-._

-were those _voices_ he could hear, coming from the woods next to the road? He approached the trees, ears perked up and Bullseye close behind him. 

“You hearing what I’m hearing, pal?” he asked, and Bullseye made an affirmative noise, nodding. It was dim, but he could make them out. Someone was definitely in there. “I’m gonna take a look.” he muttered, taking his backpack off to place it on the ground. Internal canvas layer- his best idea ever. He pushed a low branch out of the way to step into the woods and Bullseye tried to follow him into the thicket. He considered telling him to leave, to get back to the stables now, but… he was wary. Something about this was very screwy and he wasn’t sure what or why. Instead, he instructed Bullseye to stay behind and keep watch, gesturing his hand pointing to the ground, only hesitating for a moment when he realized Bullseye was obeying his commands as if he could understand clearly what was being asked of him. What the hell was that about? Had he been trained like a dog or something? However, his urgency made him push the thought aside and continue among the trees, the squelching and splashing of his steps hidden by the rain and the thunder. 

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking, following the murmur. It seemed to be moving as well, as though fleeing him. Then, it suddenly was not anymore and he could catch up with it, a woman’s voice that he couldn’t help but find sweet despite the fact that the tone was anything but reaching his ears even through the rain.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should probably take the fact that your car decided to break down today of all days as a sign from above.” she was saying, an air of stubbornness to the comment.

“Quiet.” the other voice almost made Woody trip in surprise. It was high-pitched but somewhat booming, and then came the hiss of a radio “Come in, Benson, we have a situation, I require assistance, over.” he listened for a couple of seconds and then again “Benson, the car broke down- we’re in Grimview Grove, south from town. We need one of you over here _right now_ , over.”

“I don’t think they heard you, _dummy_.” he couldn’t see the smirk, but he knew it was there all the same.

“ _Quiet._ ”

Woody circled the voices cautiously. Something about the male voice made him very uneasy and he didn’t want to be seen before he could see the guy himself. So he moved to the upper ground and, from behind a tree, he got a pretty good sight of the owner of it, despite the dying light. The man was wearing a formal suit that would have been more appropriate on the dance floor than it was here, in the middle of nowhere and in the rain. His glossy hair was combed back, perfect despite the weather and his face was unnervingly handsome, dark and thick eyelashes and a square chin that looked like it could break granite. On first sight, Woody would have thought his posture was perfect, like a dancer’s, but once he began pacing around, eyes set on the radio in his hands, he realized the man moved like he had a stick for a backbone, his entire body bending forward to look down, his legs moving somewhat frantically, as if devoid of whatever force kept him straightened from the waist up. Gravity seemed to fight the man’s body with each step, his hunched back lowered too unnaturally to be healthy. The sight made him a bit sick, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the actual _reason_.

“I’m surprised your boss didn’t give you a plan B.” the woman said after a pause. Woody couldn’t see her yet, only her soaked and muddy legs tied with thick rope and the baggy pants and rain-boots she was wearing… wait, why was she tied?! And there were drag marks on the muddy ground around her “Doesn’t she usually think of everything?”

“ _Quiet!_ ” the man turned to her in a sharp movement that startled Woody a bit, although he managed to stay still. His head seemed to swing slightly, and he put a hand on his check to adjust it, his eyes glassy. Was he drunk? High? He bent forward (Again, very stiffly) to pick up a twig thicker than Woody’s wrist. His arms were very thin but his hand looked sturdy, in a way that was bizarre and held the stick out in front of the captive woman, “You’re fragile. And the bad thing about fragile things is they _break_.”

“That pretty head of yours _really_ is hollow, huh?” she said, unimpressed.

“I am very strong.” the man continued, the sky rumbled as though to agree “All it would take is one careless movement and-.” the twig snapped between his fingers. Woody breathed out, biting his lips. Oh, hell, he’d survived almost getting mauled by rampaging cows only to put his stupid self in danger just two days later “Oops. Broken.”

“Would you look at that. Poor twig. You know, this would all be a lot more menacing if I didn’t know you’re supposed to deliver me alive.” the woman said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Alive, yes, no one said anything about unharmed.”

“Please, if you think you can break a woman’s arm and she won’t scream loud enough for hours and have someone hear, you’re stupider than you look.”

“Oh, but last time you screamed and screamed and no one came.” the man said, almost gleefully as if answering a riddle to his own sick game, thunder agreeing with him “You had to get to the clinic by yourself, remember? That doctor of yours could hardly put you back together again…” he trailed off for a moment, before breaking into giddy giggles “ _Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall_ ” oh boy, he was chanting nursery rhymes, possibly the only thing that could have made him even creepier than he already was _“All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty together again_ …” if Woody was catching the insinuation right, the threat was sickening “And today? The rain will drown your screams. No one will ever know.”

At this, Woody shivered, both from how horribly unpleasant this all was and anger. He would have thought that kind of threat could only happen in a ‘Godfather’ film. Not that the guy looked like an actual mafia thug, but the attitude… yeah, he had the attitude down perfectly. He was tempted to step out and face him-

Ah, but he wasn’t a cop anymore. And he didn’t have a gun. Or anything to defend himself with, actually. It was among the top ten list of his most stupid ideas. What else was there to do then? Leave? Abandon the woman? His mind revolted at the sole thought. No. Never. He just had to think. _Think, Woody, hurry, think-!_

“Maybe you’re right.” the woman continued. Woody had to admire how steady her voice was, for someone apparently tied up by a psycho in the middle of the woods “Then again, maybe we’ll stay here until someone comes looking for the owner of the van and sees the whole thing, since you can’t get your stupid walkie-talkie to work.”

The man seemed to realize she was right, looking behind him cautiously, making Woody very glad he’d moved from there. The radio crackled and he eagerly looked down at it again with his whole upper body.

“Benson, Benson?” he called into it, hitting it with his hands after only the crackling responded -the sound caught Woody off-guard, it was like the plastic hitting against a coffee table “Boss? Benson?” he made a sound with his mouth which Woody took a bit to identify as the smack of lips on the account that it had been bizarrely dry and looked around, making Woody duck into the raising mist, frantically. The somewhat frantic steps of the man approached, splashing in invisible puddles- Woody was already calculating whether he could at least poke him in the eyes before getting mauled, cursing himself for not going back to the road, to Bullseye and the ranch for help when he realized what was going on- when the steps walked past him, seemingly ignorant to his presence, and further up the hill. Woody let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, peeking up barely before deciding to not look at the gift horse in the mouth and just go with it, hurrying towards the captive woman as silently as he could, hands searching for his penknife in his pockets. He towered over her momentarily- lightning flashed over their heads granting him a glimpse of wet golden curls in a ponytail that made him freeze in place momentarily.

“Back alread-” the woman started, raising her head to look at him and falling silent when she realized he was a new face. It took Woody a moment to register that thunder had come, his own heartbeat too loud for it “Oh.” her lips formed a faint, apologetic smile “Sorry.”

Her face, however, wasn’t news to him- or rather, it was very good news. Or something. His brain was doing the thing again. She was wearing a blue flannel shirt and overalls that looked a tad too big for her instead of the cotton dress. And, well, she was soaked to the bone and muddy to the tips of her hair from having been dragged around in the rain for God knew how long, but it was her, definitely. The woman with the sharp smile. Only the urgency of the situation stopped Woody from making a fool of himself by saying something to the effect of ‘ _Your hero is here, little lady_ ’ as he crouched to cut the rope binding her legs together carefully. She was taken aback at his actions for just one moment, before seeming to decide she didn’t have time to wonder about it.

“You got any weapons with you?” she asked as he worked on the ties “Besides that?”

“No.” She huffed, discouraged “But I got a horse waiting on the road.”

“Alright, good. That’s good, now if I could just-.” she squirmed, struggling against the cord and he laid a hand on her leg.

“Careful, let me.” he was almost done and a swift tug was all it took. Then, he helped the woman to her feet. “Come on.”

“My hands too- hurry!” the rope had already cut into the flesh and she hissed in pain when he tugged to cut it. 

“Sorry.” he hissed more out of reflex than thinking about it. His mind was a whirlwind of anger and disgust against the man who’d done this. His own rope-burns still hurt, even days after having been made, and they hadn’t even cut into the skin the way these ones had.

“Nevermind, just hurry.” she whispered urgently “He’ll be back any moment-.”

“Hey!” came the unpleasant, high-pitched voice from behind them.

“-now.” she finished, almost sighing. Woody heard the frantic steps nearing them on the wet ground and acted on instinct, pointing at the man with the blade while making a point to keep the woman behind him. Blue-white light came from the sky, followed by a roll of thunder that made the man’s unnervingly limpid expression twice as frightening.

“Stay where you are!” Woody called out, hoping his voice didn’t falter. The man tipped his face in the same manner he looked down, by tipping his entire body. From up close, he was even more unnerving. His eyes looked like they were marbles and something about the way the raindrops ran over his face made Woody think of a plastic mask- not only that but… it took him a moment, less than that. Swirls of peach color being washed away from the man’s skin. _Makeup?_

“I don’t know you?” it wasn’t a real question, it was more of a joyfully surprised search for reaffirmation “You’re not from here?”

It took Woody a second to realize the meaning behind this- he’d accidentally become a second target, and the man couldn't look even _more_ delighted if he had tried.

“You can’t fight him.” the woman warned, tugging from his free arm with her tied hands. It was the first time she sounded really scared. “We have to run.”

“Oh yes, run.” the man agreed, nodding. The grin on his features widened, his teeth showing through. “That way whatever happens can be an accident.”

“I’m not sure I wanna turn my back on this guy.” Woody muttered to the woman without taking eyes off him.

“Understandable. But you’ll have to.”

“I really, _really_ don’t want to.”

“On the count of three. One-.”

“Tell me, friend” the man said to Woody, his crystal marble eyes set on him. He thought he saw a raindrop roll into them- over them like it would have over a solid surface “Are you fragile?”

“Two.”

Woody muttered some words in spanish he wouldn’t have, in any other situation, said in front of a lady.

“Three!” she pulled him back with considerable strength for her size and he only had enough mind to point the knife’s tip away from himself as they dashed down the hill with mad speed, the steps of the smiling man hot on their heels. Everything was a blur of water, leaves, bark and shadows, sometimes highlighted by the lightning over their heads. They slipped, slid, fell and got up among them in a frantic attempt to stay ahead. Only once did Woody dare to look back and when he did he was greeted by the sight of the man, a fair distance away, hitting a tree with his shoulder. His body turned- but his head didn’t, in an unnatural movement that made Woody want to scream, eyes set on him unblinking, rain rolling out of them like tears, smiling madly, feet shuffling. Thunder roared, drowning the sound of their feet and lightning flashed, shining a light on the man’s sharp smiling features.

That was it. Woody dropped the knife and ran faster, outrunning the woman with little effort, hand still on hers dragging her through the woods and the rain. The glimmer of wet pavement that became visible through the trees shortly was heaven-sent and he whistled with his free hand, trying to call Bullseye. Where was he? Woody couldn’t see the van. Had they gotten lost? Was Bullseye even nearby? All that went through his mind in a second, as he heard a high-pitched, horrible laughter floating through the rain, coming closer and closer-

Clopping, and an urgent neigh. Bullseye was racing to them from the spot the van was at, some 40 yards away with the backpack held between his teeth. Woody turned to the horse and ran, the woman still behind him, muttering something that sounded like ‘ _Hurry, oh please, hurry_ ’ under her breath. As if up to date with the gravity of the situation, Bullseye turned his flank to them in the same movement where he stopped, positioning himself so that they could climb easier just as they got to him. Woody mounted in a jump and all but pulled the woman onto the horse, in front of himself, practically onto his lap with her legs to one side- she was either very used to being carried or very light. She placed her tied hands behind his neck, trapping him in an odd hug that was most likely just meant to help her stay on the horse and he saw her eyes widen.

“He’s coming!” she cried. Woody didn’t dare to turn. Whatever that man was, if he never saw him again as long as he lived, it would still be too soon. He’d barely secured himself onto the animal’s back with his legs when Bullseye started running with a panicked noise, as if he could sense just how dangerous the situation was and Woody could only grab his hat and try not to close his eyes or fly off the the horse’s back. He’d had always wondered why people said ‘ _Ride at break-neck speed_ ’ until that day. He was fairly sure if he or the woman were to fall off Bullseye’s back, they would be dead within the second. She sensed it too, probably, as she clung to him as best as she could. It seemed like mere instants until they were back at the ranch entrance and Bullseye could finally slow down, breathing heavily as he made his way to the front of the house. Woody’s backpack hit the mud when he opened his mouth to pant and Burt’s pale face peeked at them from the living room window for an instant, eyes widening before he retreated inside.

“Did he follow us?” Woody asked between breaths. He knew Jessie had a shotgun. If need be, they’d defend themselves.

“No.” the woman replied shivering against his chest “No, he can’t risk being seen. It’s bad enough that you did, he’d be in for it if Jessie or the boys did.”

Woody nodded. Made sense. Kidnappers relied on being anonymous. Then again, this woman seemed familiar enough with him, and-

“What the-?!”

“Woody!” Jessie’s urgent voice called, stepping out into the rain. She looked both really happy and really cross to see him. Buzz, still on the porch, only looked cross “Where the hell were you?! What were you _thinkin’_ leaving like that?! You scared me half to death!!”

“I...” he didn’t know what to say. She’d been worried? The possibility hadn’t even crossed his head as he left. The woman on his lap turned to see Jessie, somewhat awkwardly thanks to her tied hands behind his neck.

“ _Bo_ ?” Jessie shrilled “Can someone _please_ tell me what’s going on?!”

“ _Bo_?!” Woody repeated, jaw dropping as he looked down at her. 

“So this is your new worker. Jessie, you hadn’t mentioned he was handsome.” the woman replied, her sharp smile falling in place despite her breathlessness. Woody felt himself go pink. Jessie was hanging near the face of Bullseye and seemed to be studying him, or listening to the noises he was making intently, too preoccupied to respond.

“You’re _Bo_?!” Woody choked out. Not that he had anything against Norwegian giants, specially if they were good-looking but- this was nowhere near what he’d imagined

“Roberta Pipkins.” she nodded her head gracefully, with a bemused air. 

“You’re being chased?!” Jessie suddenly shrieked, turning to the house “Buzz! Bring me the shotgun!” 

Buzz looked torn between blindly obeying and trying to talk sense into her.

“Woah, Jessie-!” Woody started, trying to appease her with his hands. Quite a task when he didn’t dare let go of the woman- of Bo, fearing she’d slide off the horse if he did.

“Woah nuthin’! I’ll teach that stinkin’, rotten, yellow-bellied-!”

“He’s probably gone now.” Burt said, from the perfectly dry and comfortable porch of the house “Kidnappers don’t usually hang around the crime scene after their plans go South. Right now I think we should focus on these two, they’re gonna catch their deaths. And Bullseye needs to get in the stables as soon as possible.”

Despite her anger, Jessie saw reason to this. She took a deep breath,

“Alright- c’mere you two, let me help ya-” she reached for Bo to help her off the horse and Woody bowed his head to let her hands slide off him. Jessie let out a disgruntled sound at the sight of Bo’s wrists once she was on the ground “Oh, for cripes sakes, Bo, look at this. Who the hell did this to you?” she sounded upset enough to cry.

“It’s fine.”

“Like hell it’s fine!”

“It could have been way worse.” she replied as Woody slid off Bullseye’s back and patted his side softly. _You saved my life_ , he thought, or maybe muttered, as he surrounded the horse’s face with both arms in a hug, _both our lives. Thank you, my friend._

Bullseye relished in the affection, huffing warmly even between shivering breaths. _It was nothing. We’re soul twins_.

“I’m taking Bullseye to the stables.” Woody said, patting his neck fondly “Dry him up real quick and give him at least two apples. He’s earned them.”

“I got it.” Burt said handing Woody his dripping backpack. It felt like weeks had gone by between him storming out of the house and coming back to the ranch soaked, exhausted and fearing for his and the woman’s lives “You get in here and warm up, cowboy, you look like death warmed over.”

“But-.”

“It’s _fine_ , I got it.” Burt insisted with a hesitant laugh, “You’re not trying to take my job, are you?”

* * *

Taking the ties from Bo’s wrists was an odyssey in itself, with Jessie cutting them as carefully as humanly possible- or as humanly possible as it could be using the biggest hunting knife. Woody was pretty sure that thing could be used to gut trouts in one movement. As Jessie worked on the knots, he observed how strangely perfect and neatly done they were, as if the man had done it a hundred times before, the thought making his stomach twist. Buzz was pacing nervously around the house, his attention on the door. Jessie had managed to keep him busy for a short while by ordering him to draw a hot bath, but he’d been as quick and efficient at it as he was in everything else and he’d be back to pacing in no time. He seemed ready to go out and look for Burt by the time the stable man came back, reassuring them of Bullseye’s state. 

“He had some fresh water, a couple of apples and is having oatmeal now, he’ll be fine by morning” _oh, thank God_ , Woody thought. He knew how easy it was for a horse to hurt itself while running and he’d been fearing Bullseye had done just that to save him and Bo.

 _We’re soul twins_. Where had _that_ come from? And what did it even _mean_?

“You should really get into the bath, Woody.” Jessie said without raising her eyes from what she was doing.

“Yeah, you smell like a wet dog.” Buzz said, but there was an amicable under-tone in his jest that made Woody unable to respond as rudely as he normally would have.

“She needs it more than I do.” he said, motioning for Bo “She was in the rain longer than I was.”

He was probably right seeing how Bo looked like she’d dipped into a pool wearing her clothes and was dripping so much that even the towel Buzz had laid on the sofa had gotten sopping wet almost within contact. Woody had at least had his jacket and hat to keep him moderately covered too, while she was dressed as she’d probably been when taken from her own home by some sort of monster…

Woody rubbed his face. _Get a grip on yourself, man, that was no monster, just… just a very creepy looking guy_.

“Well, at least get out of those in the meantime.” Burt insisted, pointing at his wet, dirty clothes. With all the sneaking and tripping around, he had trails of mud all the way up to the thighs of his pants and the elbows of his jacket “We can hang them on the porch to dry for now.” That, he could do. He removed his jacket to find his plaid shirt underneath damp but not entirely wet- still, he could feel it sticking to his body cooly and opted for removing it as well, only his white undershirt remaining. Just as he handed the clothes to Burt, Jessie let out a triumphant noise.

 _“Finally_!” she put down the knife and gave the ropes a good tug- and Bo was free, moving her wrists with a grimace, hissing when her fingers softly traced over the tender, bloody skin “Oh, man it’s worse than I thought.”

“It’s fine.” Bo assured in a whisper.

“Stop sayin’ that! You and I are gonna have a really serious talk later, but for now just stop actin’ so frickin’ _nice_ about it, ‘k?” She huffed out, trying to regain calm “Get out of those things and into the bath before you get pneumonia on top of everything. You can wear my stuff.”

Bo complied silently, but threw Woody an odd look, eyes widening the slightest at him, a slight smile on her lips. He felt himself turn pink again. _Now what?_ But as soon as it had come, it was gone and Bo was making her way upstairs with the confidence of a common visitor. And Jessie was looking at him critically.

“What?” he choked out.

“First up- seriously, get out of those, you look like the world’s lankiest Calvin Klein model.” she said, pointing at his undershirt, now sticking to his naked skin with the wetness dripping from his hat and shoulders “And when you’re done, you’re gonna tell me exactly what happened, ‘cause I know Bo won’t. And don’t think I forgot for one minute that you walked out on me!”

“I…” again, he had nothing. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time- that was always the case when he lost his temper “...I’m sorry”

Jessie’s expression softened, but in a bad way that made her look about to tear up. Woody was sure if she did, he’d do too.

“Go. Grab a robe or somethin’ and get back here immediately.”

He obeyed without another comment, dragging his backpack behind him. He was shivering when he finally managed to peel the clothes off himself, putting them on the windowsill for at least some airing and grabbed his bathrobe -thankfully, dry- a white, fluffy thing with cow-like spots patterned over it. It had been a gift from one workmate or another in one of those obligatory Christmas exchanges and he rarely wore it, mostly because there was a difference between laughing with him and at him and most places he’d been in enjoyed the latter the most… however, since his only other option was to just wrap his towel around himself, he didn’t have much choice. He slid his slippers on too, just because his toes felt like ice cubes. Just as he was walking down the attic stairs, a voice called to him. 

“Woody?”

He spun to Bo stepping toward him from Jessie’s room, in a soft yellow robe, wet strands sticking to her face now that her hair was down. Oh. _Oh._

“Yes?” was all he could say, standing a bit taller. He was decidedly _not_ turning pink again just because she looked… she looked…

He _was_ turning pink, wasn’t he? She’d said his name. Had he told her his name? He wasn’t sure. Hard to think when she was around, _looking_ at him.

“I just wanted to say- thank you. For helping me.” she said in a small voice, gently rubbing the material of the robe between her fingers. It was sort of a far cry from her attitude up until now, and it immediately rang an alarm in his head.

“No need to- anyone else would have done the same, Miss Pipkins” he said. She shook her head a bit, a small smile on her lips. It was the same gesture a lot of the guests the night before had held, as though she were lamenting that he knew so little.

“Just Bo. Bo is fine.” she chided softly and then breathed out, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds “I would.... never say this in front of the others-” she said, her voice lower, as if to keep anyone else from hearing. Only until then did he realize that her fiddling with the sleeve was meant to keep her hands from shaking “But I was worried that I might not have… made it out- if you hadn’t found me.” 

He paused. So she was scared, actually scared of what could have happened to her. So scared and yet- she was carrying it all on her own for goodness knows how long, since it was apparent this wasn’t the first time she’d encountered that… _man_. He reached for her hands hesitantly, just to wrap them in his own, just because he couldn’t bear the sole thought of how lonely that made her sound. She didn’t move away, her fingers were like ice.

“Jessie’s being harsh on you but she’s worried, y’know” he reassured her, rubbing her skin in an attempt to warm her. Big words coming from someone who’d known the woman in question only a couple of weeks so far and had literally walked out on her just an hour before. “That’s why she’s prying about this, she- she just wants to protect her people.”

“I know.” Bo muttered “But Jessie has her problems and it doesn’t seem fair to burden her with mine too.”

“I have a feeling _‘Burden’_ is not the kind of word I’d use for this… besides, acting like it’s no big deal will only make her angrier and she’ll kick your butt on top of it all.”

“I know that too.” she chuckled. Well, at least he’d managed to make her laugh, a genuine laugh, with that edge that made his fingertips tingly, unlike the mild and polite smile she’d had downstairs.  He understood why she tried to keep a straight face for everyone, not wanting to make people worry over her. He understood that feeling well.

But, darn it, he also rather enjoyed her genuine smile.

“What matters is you _are_ safe now.” he said, squeezing her hands softly “And you’re surrounded by people who care about you. Including me- uh, even if this is our first time meeting.” he added quickly, his face growing warm. Bo looked up at him, and he almost forgot how to breathe. Her eyes were so blue. 

“Thank you, cowboy.” she said in a soft voice, looking more relaxed, more soothed by his clumsy attempt to comfort her. He swallowed a bit, a small noise leaving his throat “You know, you never did introduce yourself” she removed her hands from his to cross her arms before her chest in mock-indignation “Even after I did. The only reason I know your name is Jessie yelled at you.”

“Oh, silly me” he stepped away and bowed exaggeratedly, much to her amusement “Allow me. Woody Pride, at your service.”

“My service, then. I’ll take you up on those words, Mr. Pride.” she said in a tone that made him squirm nervously- in the best way possible. 

“Just Woody- Er, Woody’s fine”

Chuckling, she stepped away to the bathroom, Woody’s eyes following her even after she’d left his sight.

“Hey, cowboy!” came Burt’s voice at the stairs, making him start almost guiltily “Did you run out on us again?”

“No-! I’m coming!” he called, starting to step down.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181901377@N07/48134886506/in/dateposted-public/)

[No Name Town Chapter 4](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181901377@N07/48134886506/in/dateposted-public/)

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181901377@N07/48134983402/in/dateposted-public/)

[No Name Town Map Ch. 4 Close-Up](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181901377@N07/48134983402/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coolbluerays: This chapter was a massive labor of love (as all our chapters have been so far) but this is the chapter that helped us set the overall tone of this universe, with it's creepy atmosphere and dangerous high stakes. We hope you thoroughly enjoy this chapter, and sleep easy tonight.
> 
> CC: This one's one of my favorites so far. We definitely enjoyed our chance to go for absolutely creepy in this chapter- something that thankfully we're gonna get to do more in the future- it's really fun! Hopefully, it's just as fun to read as it was to put together.


	6. Waiting for the Thunder.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, at least for the night, the worst has passed... right?

** Chapter 5. Waiting for the thunder. **

“Start talking.” Jessie said, patting the seat next to her on the sofa. Woody sat down and obeyed, starting with his decision to leave and ending with Bullseye’s race back to the ranch. He was concrete about it, keeping himself from going into much detail about _what_ it was about the kidnapper that made him uneasy; the things about him Woody couldn’t quite explain or place, but he had a feeling the pure dread it invoked in himself was still clear to Burt, Jessie and Buzz.

“I knew somethin’ was screwy- I knew it!” Jessie said, pacing a bit around the room. She’d gotten up in a burst of anger and indignation at the part where Woody described how he’d seen Bo tied and left in the mud by her captor. Jessie looked about ready to punch someone’s crotch by this point, running her hands over her braid “The day Bo got her wrist broken, the cows were uneasy. They _knew_ somethin’ wasn’t right! She was all ‘I fell off the roof, no biggie’ but I _knew_ that wasn’t the whole story!”

“Well, we know now that this… guy had something to do with it.” Burt said. His anger was more muted, and on the surface calm, but Woody could have sworn he felt it radiate in waves “What we don’t know is why Bo wouldn’t tell anyone about it.”

“Which is what we’re gonna get answers for the _minute_ she’s out of that bath!” She paused, then looked down, ashamed at herself, “No- what am I sayin’?” Jessie ran a hand down her face, breathing “She’s had enough stress for one day, she’ll need rest. I should be thinking about comforting her. Feeding her. Maybe I should make some mac ‘n cheese.” When she got a better look at Woody, she sheepishly asked if he wanted some too. For a moment her eyes trailed his face “You got the crap scared outta you by this guy too, huh? You need the rest and the food as much as Bo does.”

“I’m fine.” Woody assured her, even though at this point he could feel a headache coming- either he was catching a cold or the tension was catching up “I’m tougher than I look, y’know.”

“Not that you look tough at all.” Burt said “But you seem to manage.”

“Yeah.” Jessie seemed to remember the circumstances that had triggered his attempt at leaving, looking mortified “We’re… really lucky that you were here the other day, with the cows. And we’re really lucky that you were here today too, for Bo.”

“Yes. If you believe in luck, that is.” Buzz’s voice had that tone of suspicion again and Woody felt like rolling his eyes. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be the only one. 

“OK, let’s hear it. What is it this time?” Burt said impatiently, crossing his arms.

“It simply is too much of a coincidence- which is something striking, as I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“So it was my plan all along?” Woody asked, his voice trembling slightly. It was absurd-.

He had only decided to leave by the pure spur of a moment’s anger. Was Buzz really suggesting he’d known they’d argue? Known that Buzz would say something so bad that he’d have an excuse to get angry and leave? He doubted things would have worked that well for him _had_ he actually planned for it. The mechanic started to shrug.

“I’m only saying-.”

“No.” Jessie’s tone was iron and it took everyone in the room by surprise “Buzz, just- stop.”

There was a silent beat.

“The possibilities of this being a _real_ coincidence are-.”

“Look, you could bring me Rocky and have’im run the numbers by me- I’m still gonna believe what Woody says.”

Woody’s eyes set on her, wide and surprised, but she only had eyes for Buzz, a scowl on her face. A somewhat pleading one, if he was honest about it- she didn’t like having to argue with Buzz one bit and it was clear. Burt was hissing under his breath, grimacing as his eyes flashed from Jessie’s freckly face to Buzz’s scruffy, bewildered one.

“But- Jessie, don’t you think it’s a _little bit_ strange how he just so happened to walk into the one situation that would win him our trust the moment I started _really_ questioning him?” he tried, struggling to keep his tone reasonable. Woody could see he was squeezing his hand into a fist in his pockets, the way Jessie stared at him steadily sucked out all the confidence in him.

“I’ve seen stranger things, Buzz.” was her almost dry reply “I’ve _done_ stranger things. Look- I know you don’t get it, Buzz, you’re _normal._ ” there was something bitter in the word as Jessie said it, she reached for her braid and toyed with it “But- I trust Woody. And if you can’t do that yet then at least trust _me_.”

“I do, I just-.” Buzz rushed, words bunching in his mouth. He stammered for a moment and then motioned for Woody “Jessie, he was a cop!”

Woody’s eyes were now looking side to side between the two of them alternatively, his body frozen on his seat. He wished he could be elsewhere while they argued. He felt like a child that was present in their parent’s argument but not part of the conversation.

“I know! Believe me, I had a hard time letting go of that one too but- Buzz, the other day, and now this- it changes everything. He belongs here. I know it!”

“I know what he did with the cows was impressive, but- but you can’t just decide based on _that_.”

“O’course I can! He’s like _me_ , Buzz. I’d never met anyone I wasn’t related to that could do that!”

Woody looked at Burt for help- he had no idea what they were going on about, but he found his pale blue eyes set on Buzz the way someone would on a kid refusing a very obvious, blatant answer. Once again, he wondered just how old Burt was.

“And it wasn’t exactly what Jessie can do, either.” he pointed out, “It was something on it’s own, it was… _interesting._ ”

“I’m just saying- maybe we should be a bit more wary.” Buzz tried next “H-he’s a stranger under your roof. There’s always room for caution with that.”

“I mean- I’ve been here for a while now…” Woody reminded him.

“He’s not a stranger.” Jessie said “I told you- Bullseye knows him.”

Where just some days prior Woody himself would have argued that point -he was pretty sure he’d remember a horse like Bullseye if he’d seen him before- he found himself considering the point, like, _really_ considering it. Remembering the first time he and Bullseye had met outside the house, the sudden wave of familiarity that had washed over him, powerful but unexplainable. It was odd enough that he sometimes was convinced Bullseye could understand his words perfectly or vice-versa- he wasn’t sure he could really accept the fact that apparently, for whatever reason, they were also familiar with each other.

“He doesn’t _really_ but he _sort of_ does?” Burt clarified, unhelpfully “In any case, yeah, not a stranger.”

“Are you just gonna act like I’m not here?” Woody asked, and the fact that not _one_ pair of eyes looked his way answered his question.

“Buzz- you just have to trust me on this one.” Jessie said, leaning forward slightly “Can you do that, please? For me?”

Buzz mouthed like a fish for a couple of seconds, but there was no way he wouldn’t say yes if she asked like that.

“Alright.” he sighed and he looked at Jessie with big, adoring eyes, his voice lowering just a tad “I trust you, Jessie. With my life. You know that.”

The tension between them was cut by a sudden, _loud_ sneeze on Woody’s account. It hadn’t been on purpose but the results were not to be argued with, Jessie immediately went to get him a hot beverage and Buzz stayed where he stood, looking after her in longing. 

Good _grief_ the man was far gone.

“I think you _really_ should have accepted the bath.” Burt said reaching Woody the nearby knitted blanket Jessie usually put on her lap when she read on the sofa “Maybe you could have talked Bo into sharing, hm?”

“Very funny.” he said with a short glare as he wrapped himself on the blanket “Like I said, she needed it more than I did. Her hands were cold as ice.”

“Oh?”

“What?”

“So you held hands, then.”

Woody felt himself go red.

“Nevermind that, are you sure you weren’t followed?” Buzz pressed. For once, Woody was grateful. Buzz’s questioning about the kidnapper was almost bearable compared to Burt’s about Bo.

“I’m sure. Not only would he have been here already, but- Bo said something about how he couldn’t afford to be seen by you guys.”

“We’re ignoring the elephant in the room, people.” Burt said “Based on Woody’s words, the criminal was a dapper, _charming_ gentleman who kept calling for someone named _Benson_ over the radio- now, who do we know that fits the description?”

“So you _know_ who it is?” Woody asked “I thought it was odd that she seemed so familiar with whoever this was but- is it someone from town?”

“Well, it’s- we have a problem if this is who I think it is” Jessie said as she came back from the kitchen with a cup of coffee for Woody. It wasn’t chocolate, but it would do.

“What?”

“Here’s the thing- even if we _knew_ for sure who it was, uh, it’d wouldn’t do any good.”

“We can’t exactly alert the authorities about it.” Buzz said, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully “The police force in town are… unreliable.”

“And that’s the whole reason you don’t like cops?” Woody asked, a bit bewildered “Sorry to break this to you, but dirty cops aren’t exactly rare.”

“That’s not it.” Burt said “For one- we aren’t the type of people _normal_ police target in these cases. I’m sure Slink or Rocky could tell you about the times they’ve been affected by this if you asked them, but something tells me you have first-hand experience in the topic.”

Woody averted his eyes, sipping his coffee- he had hit the nail right on it’s head.

“The issue here is, uh.” Jessie eyed Buzz and Burt for a moment, hesitant “Four people in town adjust to that description.”

Woody choked on his coffee.

“ _What_?!”

“That’s not the only thing- they’re, uh- how can I say this?” she rubbed her forehead for a moment “They’re in a position where coverin’ it up wouldn’t be difficult-.”

“ _Uuuuugh_!” Burt groaned “Just say it already! They’re the Mayor’s nephews!”

 _Oh_. Woody sank on the seat. So  _that_ was the kind of unlawful authority No Name had.

“So you see, what our problem is, even if we go to the authorities-.” Buzz said.

“I get it. They’ll walk and we’ll be targets as well.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair “...what does it mean for her?” he jerked his head towards the general direction of the second floor.

“Don’t sweat it too much, Bo’s a tough one.” Jessie assured “And she has all of us to help now.”

Woody smiled at that, just a bit, but in the back of his mind, the memory of Bo’s face when she’d confessed to being scared played on repeat.

* * *

Once Bo had taken her bath, taking her longer than normal to get in and out with sore muscles, Jessie was quick to help her get wrapped in the robe and dried off properly with fresh towels. Woody tried his best not to let the thought of Bo’s injuries get the better of him with the way she _limped_ out the hall with Jessie and up to the attic. They all agreed she should sleep up there, no one could sneak in without going all the way through the house. 

Bo then tried to protest that she couldn’t take up Woody’s bed like that, he needed rest as much as she did. 

“Guys- I’m alright, I think I just need to lay down for a while, guest room would be fine.”

Jessie, however, was quick to fire back. 

“Oh no- if anyone and I mean _anyone_ tries to come here, you’re better up in the attic. It’ll be safer that way.” she reassured Bo. The farmer, while seeming grateful, appeared more concerned about them than herself. Woody didn’t mind giving up his bed for Bo’s well being, she certainly needed it far more than he did, even if she tried to convince them otherwise; he could see the exhaustion -and the shock- finally catching up with her, weighing on her limbs and her eyelids. Jessie tried not to speak much about what had just happened, opting to make light conversation to keep things calm. 

Talking about any new movies or town gossip: RC’s latest mishap, Prickly’s suggestion for an original school play about a man’s “helium-powered house, and the daring journey to South America” getting banned for the uptenth time, or how some kid named Sid Phillips had somehow managed to light the school lab on fire- _normal_ things. Burt grabbed their first aid kit to clean her wounds and apply bandages slathered in an ointment around her wrists and ankles, seemingly very well practiced in tending to the injured. Upon Bo’s comment on this, he smiled. 

“You pick up quick when your boss is a red-head with a love for jumping into any situation that will save a little critter.” 

“ _Excuse me,_ I sign your paychecks.” 

“Right, like that’s gonna stop me.” 

Bo chuckled, visibly relaxing more, much to Woody’s relief. Seemed like that silly banter and expert first aid treatment was enough to make the pain more bearable to the touch. Jessie then kicked Burt out to check for other scratches or bruising on Bo’s body behind closed doors just in case.

Woody had every intention of standing outside the door during this, ready to jump into action and fetch something or someone from town if need be- but, Burt reminded him, he’d also been caught in the rain and it wouldn’t help anyone if he caught something from it. Reluctantly, but accepting the point, he slid into the bathroom, removed his robe and stepped into the tub. The sinking feeling of warm water felt so soothing on his aching body right now. He felt up until this point that every muscle had decided to clench themselves into tight pretzels, as his flight mode kicked into overdrive so quickly that his lungs felt tight. Finally he could breath, really breath, and think properly.

So that was Bo- the farmer he had heard so much about. The woman he’d been hoping to see again, if even just once. Part of him felt embarrassed over the times he had thought of her, dreamt of her (then again one can’t be blamed for their own unconscious thoughts) and how much he had hoped the day before today that she would have joined them. Rubbing his wrists gently, he looked down at his arms- the rope marks didn’t sting as much anymore, but he still had some idea of what Bo’s wrists and legs were most likely feeling like at the moment. Pin-prickles of anger coursed through him- there was that and the insinuation that the man he’d seen today had also been responsible for that fracture Barbie had mentioned. Why? Was it connected to the ‘Boss’ Bo had mentioned? Was it some sort of personal vendetta? 

Ah, he knew it was a naive point of view, but- no, he shook his head, a woman as lovely as that couldn’t be mixed up in things like this. She was just an unfortunate victim in all this. Then again, she knew the perpetrator, she even seemed _used_ to it. He couldn’t tell if she had simply numbed her terror to stay alive, or truly ran into that- that man for so long that this was almost second nature. What kind of law enforcement did this town even have for that to be a regular occurance? Grumbling to himself, he made a mental note to check out the police station himself, see why the hell no one in this town felt they were trustworthy enough to help. Best guess he could think of was a broken corrupt local government, but he needed more evidence if that was true. Especially since he hadn’t seen the mayor yet; if he was an accomplice, he’d have to call for a higher authority and-.

He stopped himself, realizing he’d been already mentally listing the procedure steps. _You’re not a cop, you don’t have the authority for that._ He mentally reminded himself, gripping his thigh. Moments like this made him the most frustrated, the most _useless_ half-wit that ever walked the earth. He couldn’t help, he was just a ranch hand now, not a cop, not anyone important anymore.

He just couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Letting out a breath, he scrubbed away his frustrations with a washcloth. _You had good reason to quit_ , he reminded himself not for the first time, thinking of helpless cries of ‘ _Don’t shoot me, please don’t shoot me_ ’ and the congratulatory laughs and jokes and pats on the back of the other officers. The envelope in the second drawer of his old work desk. The pictures of pleading eyes staring from faces he knew were _dead_. 

_You had every reason to quit._

Maybe so. It didn’t make him feel any less useless, though.

He stepped out of the tub to dry off in a couple towels and wrap himself in his bathrobe again. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, Jessie had finally come out and was talking to Buzz in hushed tones, beckoning Woody closer the minute she saw him.

“Bo’s getting some sleep.” she said, handing him a fresh set of clothes. He was relieved and happy enough to ignore the fact that this meant Jessie had looked into his backpack and handled his underwear.

“Everything OK with her, then?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Yeah, she’s just... roughed-up. Creep dragged her through the woods for a bit before you found’er- I’m gonna tear the jerk a new one, you just wait” Jessie’s eyes had turned to cold steel for a moment, but then she turned to Buzz and they softened “Can you watch over the door for her? She won’t admit it but it’ll help’er sleep a lil’ easier.”

“Right.” Buzz nodded.

“Of course-.” Woody joined and Jessie threw him a look.

“I didn’t mean you- for cripe’s sake, Woody, you were out there too!” she angrily whispered, pushing him. “Go to my room and get some sleep!”

“Jessie I’m not going to be able to sleep- you gave me coffee just a while ago and I want to make sure Bo’s alright- I- I mean, we all do, don’t we?” He quickly added, turning to Buzz for agreement before remembering they hated each other’s guts “Look, I’ll be fine. Buzz and I can guard. When Bo is rested- I’ll get some sleep, I swear.” He held out a hand solemnly and Jessie scowled at him for a couple of seconds before she gave up.

“I’m holding you onto that promise cowboy.” she hissed, pointing a finger in his face, and then sighed, letting her body release some tension “You’ve done alot for her- for us-. So I’ll cook you up something, ‘k?”

“Thank you.”

“Just- put some clothes on already, weirdo.” 

Jessie walked down the stairs again. In an instant the warm fuzzy feeling of friendship was replaced with a slightly tense, cold atmosphere as Buzz eyed Woody, sitting down on the steps to the attic. Woody didn’t really have much to say to the mechanic, preferring to maneuver with the bathrobe, starting to get dressed under it in an attempt to preserve his modesty even if just a bit, thoughts running through his head about the man- the four possible suspects, and the fact they were all nephews to the _mayor_. 

Then, without warning, Buzz cleared his throat, leaning forward. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way Woody-” his tone wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either “You don’t know a lot about our town and there’s _a lot_ going on. Not just with the Mayor’s nephews or with the police.” 

Woody, currently trying to slip his head into the undershirt without exposing his boxers, had to count to ten just from that comment alone. Seemed everyone had said the exact same message to him, in different ways. 

“And knowing that fixes- _what_ about the way you’ve acted?” he finally managed to pull the damn undershirt down onto him, with a relieved breath. and began to work on putting his pants and underpants on “I’m new here. I can understand the caution, but you’ve been accusing me of manipulating every situation to gain people’s trust practically since I arrived. You just- you decided I was dangerous on sight, without bothering to know me.”

“And we’re pretending you didn’t do the same?” Buzz said.

“I never-! ...OK, so maybe I thought you were _annoying_ but I never tried to make people _your_ work depends on suspicious of _you_.”

“Annoying-? Wh-?”

“You have your dad in the other town, you have friends here. I-” he almost said ‘ _I have nothing_ ’ but caught himself, gulping “...I need this job.”

“I…” Buzz looked somewhere between mortified and cautious. Woody steadied himself, careful to not let his emotions flow too freely in front of Buzz right now. Not only did he not want to disclose how much belonging and trust really meant to him, but he wasn’t sure being as sincere as he could was the right way to go with someone who might not even believe or appreciate it either way. “Y-you have to understand, our police are-”

“Oh, I _understand_ ” Woody said, as he buckled his belt and reached for his shirt “Believe me, I do. I’ve seen. I’ve seen plenty of reasons not to trust cops-” he slid the shirt on and begun buttoning it hurriedly. His fingers were quivery “If anyone understands it, that’s me- why do you think I quit? An entire organization built around the idea of protecting and serving civilians- hell, it’s in the darn motto- and _they’re_ the ones people are afraid of these days. I know the police here have failed you- and I’m sorry. But it doesn’t have anything to do with me and I’m not paying for whatever it is they’ve done that’s so horrible I got treated like a mangy dog the minute people learned I’d been a cop.”

He finished talking with his eyes set on the pretty painting of the prairies decorating the wall in front of him, anything to avoid looking at Buzz. He felt a little lighter, having gotten all of that off his chest, but he knew from experience that truth always came with a price. Buzz, however, only sighed, visibly slumping on his seat. 

“You’re right-.” He started, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m- sorry Woody. I don’t think you’re really a bad guy.” he paused, as though pondering his own words “I mean, I don’t _know_ you. You could be, yeah, but I don’t think so.” Woody wondered whether he was meant to feel praised or insulted “Still, here’s the thing: People aren’t normally quick to jump in and help out of the goodness of their hearts.” 

“Jessie is.” Woody dropped without one hint of hesitation. This seemed to hit Buzz like a punch to the gut and he fell silent for a while after that.

“I guess…” he finally muttered “All I can say that matters is… you’re right and I’m sorry.”

Woody was tempted to wallow on the victory, but, truth be told, he _knew_ he wasn’t exactly clean in the matter either. Buzz had rubbed him the wrong way on sight and he’d allowed that to get out of control, could he really condemn him for seemingly having done the same thing? He breathed out, placing hands in his pockets.

“Truth is, I could’ave reacted better.” he said. “And- well, something good came out of it in the end, I guess, but I still… I guess what I’m trying to say is: It’s OK and… and I’m sorry too.”

Buzz seemed a bit stunned.

“For real? We’re good?”

“Yeah.” he breathed out again, body relaxing enough to allow him to smile “Yeah, we’re good. Until the next time you act unbearably stuck-up.”

“Hah.” Buzz’s laughter was humorless but he was smiling. 

After what felt like hours, during which Woody had dragged a chair to sit in front of Buzz and the attic stairs and had been steadily fighting grogginess, Jessie came up with two big plates of cheesy pasta, Burt trailing behind with two tall glasses of lemonade, rushing back downstairs as soon as he’d delivered- something good on TV, probably. Both men gratefully scarfed the food down, sleep forgotten. Woody, for one, felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. Buzz seemed to be just as appreciative, as he smiled at Jessie, with a soft look that Woody would have made fun of if his mouth wasn’t so full. When they’d both drunk down the cool lemonade, stomachs full of warm food, Jessie took a seat on the floor between them.

“Anything to report?” she asked, half-serious. Woody shook his head. 

“No- Nothing’s happened.” Well that wasn’t technically true, he had wound up making some progress with Buzz, which was _something_ but it may be too soon to list it as good news.

“Yeah- nothing to report ma’am.” Buzz concurred, straightening his back, jokingly saluting- this made Jessie giggle and snort, rocking on her butt and falling back. Quickly Buzz lifted her back up, holding her hands, they both blushed and he let go. “Thanks for the food Jessie- pasta was great.”

“Oh you know- microwaveable food is pretty- cool.” she finished, and Woody knew she was mentally slapping herself. 

“Ah” Buzz was somewhere around the same thoughts, it seemed “Well, still, y-you went through the trouble of warming it up for me and Woody-”

“Oh, no trouble at all-! The microwave did everything, really.”

“Well, but you did operate the microwave- ah, so-”

“It was a nice gesture.” Woody offered. Buzz clung to this almost desperately.

“Yes- that’s exactly what I- ahem, what I meant.”

“Well, thank you” Jessie smiled, seemingly not realizing Buzz was the one that should be thanking her. Still, Woody wasn’t gonna point it out. He already felt like he could slip into sugar coma from all the sweetness transpiring between the two of them as it were. 

Jessie wound up staying up with them, chatting quietly about the movies they had watched, lifting the mood instantly. It was nice to forget, just for a little while anyway, that someone had tried to harm him and Bo.

* * *

Then, sometime past midnight, the lights went off. Jessie let out a small yelp. Woody got to his feet, looking around the ceiling. _Power outage?_ Something in his gut was worried it was more than just a coincidence. He heard the shuffling of feet from Jessie scrambling to get up, her hand fumbling with his arm, digging fingers into his skin. 

“It’s OK, Jessie. It’s OK” Buzz was repeating. Something wasn’t right. Woody reached for the hand squeezing him and let his fingers rest over hers.

“You OK?”

“Flashlight- I need a-” she cleared her throat, breathing deep- she sounded like she was close to hyperventilating “In- in the hallway closet! Downstairs.” 

Buzz pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning the screen on for a little light. 

“It’s okay Jessie-” he repeated, laying a hand on her arm “Look, just turn on your phone light until I get back, OK? Woody’s gonna stay with you, you’re fine.” he added, giving her a small squeeze. Woody felt rather than saw the look Buzz threw him- one that promised nothing nice should he leave her side. Jessie nodded, quickly digging through her pockets, pulling it out and turning it on. She cursed under her breath, impatiently waiting for it to come to life, and when it did, Buzz made sure to wait on her until her breathing was level. Then, he disappeared down the staircase, leaving Woody and Jessie to wait together.

“Any idea what caused this?” Woody asked. Jessie didn’t answer, looking around the dark area with her phone screen, muttering how tiny the damn thing was. “Jessie?” 

“Huh-? Oh- Lightning. Or maybe a tree fell on the lines. With any luck, it’s just a blown fuse” she seemed on edge though, as though she herself suspected something else. That didn’t seem like a good sign. The storm and wind seemed to increase in volume without light to distract them, the rain pelting the side of the house, wind whipping around. Buzz’s heavy boots walked back up, coupled with Burt’s, holding a lantern in his hand, passing two large flashlights to Jessie and Woody. 

“Thanks Buzz.” Woody said, turning his on. “Should we get Bo up?” 

Jessie contemplated for a minute; now that the room was decently illuminated, she seemed more able to focus than she’d previously been. She appeared to weigh her options, letting out a somewhat resigned breath once she’d made up her mind. 

“No- She really needs the sleep. Buzz- Burt- stay here and keep an eye on her, I’m going down with Woody to the basement to check on the fuse box and generator.” she said. 

Buzz nodded, taking a seat, but his posture was tense. He didn’t look like he wanted to stay behind- more like he probably didn’t want Jessie to leave his side. 

Woody followed Jessie downstairs, she grabbed a tool box from the closet and opened the door to the basement. Sudden uneasiness overcame him at the thought of having to go further down underground, even if it the rest of the house was just as pitch-black right now. All of a sudden, he couldn’t stop thinking of all the things that could be hiding in the dark. Sketch’s devil. Jessie’s ghost. Even Chuck’s Cerberus- or worse, the man of the forest himself, maybe he’d cut the power off to lure them out, maybe-

“Woody, I-.” the startled noise he made at Jessie’s hand suddenly grabbing him by the elbow was not flattering. To her credit, she didn’t laugh, even when he fumbled with his flashlight in fright, almost dropping it “I was just gonna say maybe you should stay behind. I know my way around here better than you do.”

“N-no, I-.” he swallowed, trying to puff out his chest. Humiliating as it was to think he was scared about nothing, it was worse to realize Jessie looked just as scared as he was -more, even- and she was _still_ doing what was needed “I’m coming with you. You might need help”

She shot him a glance like she seriously doubted he could be any real help like this but said nothing, opening the basement door and beginning to step inside, warily. Each step creaked, screeching slightly underneath their weight, Woody made a mental note to himself to check them properly once he had a chance, continuing to follow, keeping his light on her. The place smelled of damp stone and old smoke; the flashlight’s beam painted eerie shadows on the walls- as if that wasn’t unnerving enough, Woody suddenly had the feeling that they were being watched, cool discomfort creeping further up his spine with every passing second. Jessie, though, didn’t seem to feel anything- or rather, she had her own problems. Her breathing was tight and controlled as she made her way through piles and piles of boxes filled with old tools, some papers and even something like a discarded swing set, expertly avoiding a potential fall, until she reached the fuse box, opening it.

“Hey- get over here, I need the light to do this.” she called.

“Right- sorry.” Woody followed, stopping when his boot stepped in something- something _slimy_ . “What the-?” he began lifting his foot up. The _something_ thinned and stretched itself up with it, and Woody gagged. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” Jessie asked, looking over each switch, flicking them at random in hopes of it fixing something.

“I think there’s a leak in here- stepped in something.” he said, shining the flashlight over- whatever it was. _Maybe some of the wooden steps still had sage?_ It was unlikely. It looked more like- saliva. 

“Oh that’s just _great-_ like the storm wasn’t bad enough already.” Jessie said over her shoulder. She was quickly getting frantic, Woody could tell. He searched his brain for something to say. 

“Is it a blown fuse?” he asked, scrubbing his boot into the concrete floor, nearly slipping in the process. Something flashed out the corner of his eye and the feeling of being watched seemed to multiply tenfold. _Keep it cool, cowboy_ , he told himself, years of training kicking in. _Keep it cool. No sudden movements._

“Doesn’t look like it.” Jassie scanned the entire box, looking for anything she could have missed and one of her hands flew to her braid, tugging on it anxiously “I don’t know- maybe a wire got cut somehow or somethin’, I don’t-.”

“We should get back up to Buzz and Burt.” Woody said, trying to keep his voice even. Jessie looked at him and tried to smile.

“Afraid of the dark, cowboy?” her teasing tone wasn’t at all convincing. Still, a flash of self-consciousness went through him.

“No-! I’m just- If anything happens, it’s better that we’re all together-” Woody hurriedly explained “Besides, Buzz is probably far better with this kind of thing than we are. Mechanic and all.” 

“Ya got me there.” she thought about it for a bit “Alright, let’s go. I’ll grab’im and you can stay up with Burt.”

“Um, you sure you don’t want to… stay up with Burt instead?” he offered, part of him desperately hoping she’d decline “I mean- you seem…?”

“What?” her tone had an edge. Woody didn’t get to choose his words carefully, though. Something caught his eye. A trail of shine catching the beam of Jessie’s light, leading straight to...

“Hey- Jessie, are those locked?” he motioned with his flashlight towards the steps that lead to a trap door behind the house- straight to the outside. 

“Yeah of course.” she said matter-of-factly “I lock’em every night.”

To illustrate her point she walked over to them and pushed, only to stumble forward. The doors swung open, all the chains slipping off and hitting the ground in a grand thud as rain and wind seeped through them. Jessie’s eyes went wide, looking at Woody. _Shit._ Woody ran up to grab inner handle. Jessie pulled the other door down from wildly flapping against the wind. 

“I don’t- I locked them, I swear!” she cried as she held them in place while he inspected the chains, finding the lock on the floor, covered in more of that slime. It was destroyed- it looked like it had been chewed and spit back out again, like a nasty snack. Bits of metal were scattered around the floor leading down from the steps. A million thoughts were swirling through his head, but the biggest one that spoke out to him was: _What was down here with them?_

“Jessie, I think it might be best if we just go up-.” He began, whispering “And lock the doors behind us.” 

Jessie nodded, gulping.

“Right- let’s just go.” she said calmly, reaching for some rope to tie down the cellar doors. Woody hurried to her side, trying to look everywhere at once, and handed her a heavy metal weight to better secure them. Once done, he slowly stepped away, looking at her and silently pointed upwards, placing his finger on his lips immediately after, every movement as slow as if he were in a nursery with a particularly fussy infant. Jessie nodded in agreement, walking a little ways ahead, while Woody watched her back, toward the staircase. 

Before she could reach them, though, there was a loud _bang_ as plastic crates stacked in the far right corner came crashing down. Something in white moved from behind them, _fast-_ Woody could hardly make out a distinguishable shape from the giant mass. 

And it was headed right for Jessie. 

He hadn’t known he could still move so fast. It was a blur as Woody shoved Jessie out of the way, feeling a heavy, hot weight crush his chest, knocking the breath out of him. The attacker on top of him, he dropped to the concrete ground, his shoulder blades and the back of his head making contact with the floor sharply. The flashlight slid out of his hand and rolled across the floor elsewhere, lost.

He shut his eyes, waiting for cold hands around his neck, or a knife in his chest, or claws or anything to kill him, preferably something slow so at least Jessie could have a chance to make a break for it. He wondered for a moment if the cops would even show up. _They damn well better if I’m dying in this basement._

He saw Jessie’s flashlight hit the floor close to his head and heard her groan and curse in effort, trying to pull whatever was crushing him off his chest. _Nooo, run, it’s too late for me- remember me as a hero-!_

A second passed, and then another, and he was still breathing, even if it was sort of a big effort. Something warm and wet was rubbing his face now, it felt so familiar that he called out for Bullseye out loud. But- the smell of hay and apples wasn’t there, this was something more earth and grass, and hints of something sweet like flowers and… something else entirely, something like ashes. Hurried steps came creaking down the stairs. Burt and Buzz, most likely.

“No one move-!” came Buzz’s voice, confirming the theory “I have a- _broom_. And I’m not afraid to use it!”

The lights suddenly flickered back on, and Woody saw nothing but white fluffiness. Jessie gasped and stumbled back, and- she began to laugh, snorting and gasping for air. 

“Oh my god- And I was _this close_ to running for the shotgun.” she wheezed once she was able to string words together again. Woody grunted, reminding everyone he was still here and still very much being crushed by some 400 pound _thing_ . Buzz’s and Burt’s steps hurried to him and they helped Jessie reach over to pull the beast off him. Finally able to catch his breath, he looked up to see three very _normal_ , sort of muddy but otherwise white, fluffy sheep looking at him with innocent, mild eyes.  

“Poor things- you girls must have missed Bo, huh? Don’t worry she’s safe.” Jessie patted their heads, as they baa-ed. Jessie listened, nodding “She’s upstairs, don’t worry-. We’ve taken real good care of her.” more baa-ing. Details, they wanted details. Woody could feel their urgency to know more, their worries and their concern for Bo’s safety. It seemed they had been scared out of their minds when they realized she wasn’t out on an errand but _gone_.

“We had to bring her here- she was safer this way.” he explained, realizing one second too late that he was explaining himself to a bunch of _sheep_ . Jessie stopped and looked at him quietly, as well as everyone else. Woody pursed his lips, holding his head. _Must have taken a pretty big blow when they tackled me._  

“You alright there?” Burt asked, with a curious glint in his eye as he and Buzz helped him up. Buzz, on his part, silently looked to Jessie and she crossed her arms, tilting her head with a smile. A silent conversation if Woody had ever seen one.

“I’m fine, head just hurts a little.” he reassured everyone, wiping the slobber off his face “You OK, Jessie?”

“Oh, shut yer trap!” she half-snapped, too pleased to really put any fire in it “The guy takes a sheep-tackle for me and he still asks if _I’m_ OK-”

“I didn’t _know_ it was a sheep-tackle, I thought…” he didn't elaborate. It all felt very silly now “Anyway, anyone care to explain what’s going on here? Who are they?” he gestured to the sheep. 

“Oh- where are my manners? Woody these are Bo’s _guardian_ sheep- Billy, Goat and Gruff.” Jessie explained, ruffling their heads gently. Was it Woody’s imagination or had each sheep nodded in time with a name, as though to signal which one was theirs? Aspirin. He needed aspirin.

“Bo has three pet sheep?” he asked, looking over them suspiciously. They were actually sort of small, as far as sheep went- how on earth had they managed to feel so heavy just moments before?

“She’s had them since they were little lambs.” Buzz explained, scratching behind the ears of one of them- Goat, if Woody’s memory served right. Goat leaned into his hand, tongue lolling out a bit.

“Right.” Woody said, as if it made perfect sense for anyone to want sheep as pets. Not that he didn’t think they couldn’t make a good companion, he was sure he had seen pet sheep on farms before, but- why three? And no shepherd dog? It was unusual. Burt used a crumpled, dirty napkin to wipe some of the saliva off Woody and when Jessie made sure he was fine to walk, she lead the way back upstairs, the sheep, Burt, Buzz, and a slightly confused Woody following behind. 

“I’ll get you some ice for that head Woody.” Jessie called over her shoulder, heading to the kitchen “And you three! Come over here, let me get you cleaned up real fast before you go up to Bo.”

“Glad you’re both safe.” Buzz said as he made his way upstairs and to the hallway closet. He then turned to Woody, looking sort of sheepish- which was _something_ considering they had a trio of sheep literally standing there “ _Ahem_. I… want to say: Thanks for staying with her- keeping her safe and all.” he said, handing Woody a towel. 

“Don’t mention it” Woody replied “...I mean it. This whole sheep-tackle story doesn’t leave me looking too well.”

Gruff, waiting her turn by the kitchen door, let out air sharply through her nose, as though unamused by the comment.

“I mean it, though” Buzz insisted, looking over him “Thanks” Though Woody could tell that he was slightly embarrassed, the thanks was genuine and that was good enough for him. He smiled at the mechanic, doing a mock salute at him. 

With the power back on, everyone could rest easy. Burt headed back to the TV and Buzz went back into the cellar, followed by Woody. They made sure to lock the cellar back-doors securely with chains and a couple locks before heading back and locking the basement door.

“There we go” Buzz said as soon as they were done and placed his hands on his waist, satisfied “Those doors aren’t coming open anytime soon.”

“You said the same last time” Burt called from the sofa. “Extra thick chains and two locks and all that jazz and-” 

“Wait so- how on earth did those fluffy meances get inside? ” Woody began to ask, but was interrupted by the sheep, looking neater than before, running upstairs excitedly, baa-ing.

“Hey- Wait!” Jessie ran after them, clutching an ice pack in her hand, right behind Woody and Buzz. The sheep quickly sniffed out what, Woody guessed, was Bo, pushing the attic door open with ease and almost closing it on his face when he followed. He hurriedly pushed it open again, afraid they could somehow hurt Bo, but he found them calmly sitting, resting their heads on the bed, tails wagging faintly. Their friend was lying peacefully, her golden hair curling around her face, splayed out over the pillow. Her chest rose and fell in a steady beat, an arm over the blanket. He noticed the sheep were starting to lick her hand and he quietly shooed them away. 

“I know you were worried, but she needs her rest.” he muttered to them. They threw him a look, and decided to take the foot of the bed instead, hopping up and curling around her feet as though to keep her warm. Shutting their eyes, they seemed to fall into deep sleep quickly.

Woody’s eyes traveled to Bo’s bandages, feeling a twinge in his chest. His wrists seemed to burn in sympathy just looking at hers, and he slowly moved her arm back underneath the blanket, tucking her in. He lingered for a moment, wondering what must have been going through her mind. There was so much he didn’t know about her, but he wanted to... so badly. 

“Let’s- get you another bath Woody.” Jessie whispered, patting his back.

“Right, I kind of stink.” he muttered, looking down at the messy state of mud, dust and saliva his clothes were now. He sighed, and in his nice shirt and pants too. “Should we be worried about them?” he pointed to the sheep, still snoring by Bo’s feet.

“Nah- they’ll protect her, I’ve seen them bite- _hard_. And that’s not even counting some of their stories.” Jessie said casually, digging through Woody’s drawers for clean clothes. 

Again she spoke as if she’d had a conversation with them. It was strange how confident she seemed in understanding them. Then again, his injured brain had made him believe he was doing the same. Before he could point it out, though, or even ask about it, he was distracted by Jessie tugging a pair of pink hearted boxers out from his discarded backpack. Her glance was eloquent enough, but for good measure, she dropped ‘ _Nice boxers’_ at him before he snatched them from her and all but chased her out of the room. 

During his second bath of the early morning, he scrubbed away all the dust and saliva and whatever else got on him from the basement floor. He groaned, as his back hurt from the fall, his shoulder blades feeling especially sensitive and bruised as he rolled his shoulders, stretching his tired muscles. And to top it all off, the ice pack was sitting on his thumping head, tied down with his bandana to keep it in place, tucking the ends under his chin. He had a hunch he’d still be feeling that bump in the morning. Counting off the days with his fingers, it had been barely more than a couple of weeks since he first arrived here, and in that time he had almost been run over by a truck, crushed by a stampede of cattle, chased by an insane serial kidnapper, and now tackled by three sheep with nasty breath. He wasn’t sure whether to consider himself fortunate or not for surviving.

Stepping out and drying himself off carefully, seering in the dull old aches and fresh new ones, he thought about everything he had encountered since he moved here, slowly getting dressed, minding his new bruises. The people, the animals, the places and a fourth category of things that he hadn't quite figured out yet. There _was_ an obvious explanation to all of those stories, including his own, he just needed time to figure it out…. right? _Right_? 

He thought about Jessie, and her weird quirks with animals, her almost stubborn-teenage-like behavior. But also her caring, energetic nature, and her protectiveness over her friends. How all the animals loved and gravitated toward her for food and pettings and the people for advice, friendship and comfort. Was it really just her personality that drew others to her? Then there was the staff; Sketch, Rocky, Burt, and Chuck, the strangest collection of men under one roof he had ever encountered in all his time working on ranches- he felt like he was in a sitcom half of the time just standing near them. The first three hadn’t been so bad to him, in fact they all got along pretty well. Making jokes and light conversation about anything that popped into their heads, eager to listen but also to share; Burt was kind of mischievous in an endearing way, even if he sometimes was unbearable for it. Sketch and Rocky had any easy time rolling with the punches in ways Woody wished he could do. He couldn’t help but admire such a quality in kids like them. Chuck, though… Chuck was a horse of a different color. He’d had it out for him, probably for the same kind of reasons Buzz had- the ex-cop thing. Admittedly after a while, specifically after the cattle incident, he had let up on the comments about his character, and stopped trying to scare him off with more stories of hounds from hell dragging strange men off to their deaths. Woody was more or less convinced that the eeriness of his character was just the way his personality was, but no malice laid in it.

And- Buzz had _finally_ seemed to get off his back now too, after Woody shared some of his thoughts and expressed his empathy over the police situation here. Plus saving the girl Buzz was madly crushing on was also a nice bonus, even if the only threat was being licked by three sheep.

_Particularly heavy sheep. Seriously, what was Bo feeding them?_

Bo... the woman with the sharp smile. Despite knowing her the very least, the haunting experience they had to endure together made him feel like he just spent an entire lifetime with her in those few short minutes. Even though they met under the worst circumstances, he didn’t care, because she was still here with them, still alive and breathing. To imagine her otherwise made him feel sick. Even though she’d claimed the man’s Boss had wanted her delivered alive- Woody wasn’t sure. There had been murder in those crystal-like eyes, a smile that told him Benson would enjoy their suffering.

Boy, he was really starting to feel like he was in a mystery novel or something. It _had_ really been one insane day, huh? Walking to Jessie’s room, he sat on her bed and realized this place, this entire town, was insane. The people were strange, the police were corrupt, and the area was in itself a freak of nature; a mix of desert and forest. This place felt unnatural, like it was never meant to exist, but by pure stubbornness, existed anyway.

Well, they had _stubborness_ in common, he guessed. It was more than he could say about his previous addresses, it almost felt like affinity- which wasn’t exactly _belonging_ , but he’d take it over nothing any day. It had been a long time since he felt like he belonged somewhere, and despite the rocky beginnings with a few towns people, he felt like he was being accepted slowly. Embraced, even, in a way he’d never expected- he’d never had a welcome party before, for one. He reminisced it, a fond smile on his lips.

It had really felt like- like he was making friends. He needed those more than anything if only to squash the fear of being kicked out once again and forced to wander the land for the rest of his days-. It was one thing was to move constantly and leave friends everywhere, but another to be so far from people’s minds that he was liable for job cuts, or easily considered disposable when he started giving them trouble. He wasn’t sure there was a trace of him anywhere he’d been, or that, in the case there _was_ , it was a good thing. It was a lonesome though, realizing his traces on earth may as well be just bad memories.

_You’ve done a lot for her- for us._

Well, maybe not entirely, Woody thought as his eyes drifted closed. The bed enveloping him in soft cushions, promising him a long well-deserved rest. He knew he had a real shot here, to make a place for himself. To connect with others. _Things are going to be better here,_ he told himself, saying it like a mantra. 

Seemed the weirdest town in America was his perfect fit, and he wouldn’t dare screw this up, finally a good opportunity was coming his way and, as he slipped into sleep, he silently thanked No Name Town for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C.C.: Welp. They can't all be legit scary, can they? Jokes aside, this one was particularly fun to write for that basement scene and Buzz and Woody's conversation. Still, don't get too comfy, more creepiness is on its way, that's a promise!
> 
> coolbluerays: I want to start this message off with a big THANK YOU to all the readers that stuck by when we didn't update this fic! (However we did write two short holiday fics for Halloween and Christmas if you're curious on checking those out. Halloween is mine, Christmas is CC's)
> 
> We had a lot to discuss moving forward and had to sit down, and really think about what to do next. To be honest, I fell into a writing slump, but it's been long enough and I know it wouldn't do anyone good if we kept putting off posting new chapters. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please check out our new Tumblr: https://nonametown.tumblr.com
> 
> We'll post updates, art, inspiration photos, etc. Feel free to send us messages and questions through there!


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